Lovehammer: Sailor Moon 40k
by Arkado
Summary: Since WH40k is not Grimdark enough, why not make it even more Grimdark? Cue in the Sailor Senshi.  It is more crazy than it sounds. Not a crack fic. Formatted Chapters, now finally working on , too; Chapter 9 displayed as 10  contains new content.
1. Prelude

Standard disclaimers apply; nothing is mine, and I am playing hard and fast with canon.

Actually, I try to keep it pretty close to canon aside from obvious AU/Fusion mechanics, but well; I have no frakking clue about both universes and I am a first time writer.

Feel free to flame me, got Promethium to burn.

Anyways; you can't hold me responsible for the original idea, it got spawned on some forum or the other. I believe the first one to come up with it was AbyssalDaemon, so it's his fault alone. If not, Wingedknight is to blame for I took the prelude from him (with permission) and he is my beta reader for the later chapters, together with Ryuugi.

Well, if you still dare to read on, here we go:

**Terra**

He stood there, surveying all that lay beneath him. Below was the killing field, ripe with the stench of death and filled with the sounds of the dying. Bodies littered the ground as far as the eye could see, and the dirt was sodden with the blood of men. Today had been the final battle, the defeat of the last rival warlord for dominion of Terra. While tiny pockets of resistance still existed, there was no longer any major military force left to oppose him. He, already known as the Emperor by his subjects, was the uncontested ruler of mankind.

The Emperor was an imposing figure, especially clad in his towering golden armour. His face was all hard angles, and while seemingly young his eyes held the true weight of his thousands of years. Those same eyes held boundless determination, but they held near infinite sorrow as well.

"So much needless death," he whispered to himself. Needless indeed, for without the betrayal of the alien, mankind would not have been driven so close to destruction. It had brought the Emperor no pleasure in conquering Terra over the numerous bodies of the rival warlords. It had hurt him to see humanity fractured like this. They were only strong so long as they were united. Divided, scrambling and eating each other, they would surely all perish in the harsh and unforgiving universe.

Perhaps, one day, mankind would cooperate with the alien again. But that day was far off, and it would only come when humanity was the dominant force in the galaxy. Trust, after a betrayal such as this, would only happen with superior strength.

"This can never happen again."

The Emperor had wanted to see the result of the carnage alone so that he could burn it into his mind. This was the price to be paid for his ascension, and it was heavy indeed. He vowed he would always remember this sacrifice.

He turned to rejoin his various commanders and advisors, but stopped short. He felt... something, something that had not been there before. That was impossible. He was a man of considerable psychic might, a bastion of strength unlike any other. He felt every mind for miles around at every second of every day. Nothing was capable of sneaking past him. This strange mind he felt couldn't have just suddenly appeared, but there it was.

He made his way toward it, concerned and more than a little curious. He had never felt a mind quite like this. It was doing something strange to the Warp. Where it lay the Warp was calmer, more stable. All around it was as chaotic as ever, but that one little spot was like an island in turbulent waters. That was unheard of. The Warp was constantly shifting and inherently wild, full of dark entities that preyed upon living minds. He had lived with their chittering and temptations since the very first day of his birth. He was so used to them that he could tune them out without thought. But the closer he came to this pocket of stability, the quieter they became.

He topped a rise and saw the source. It was a child, probably not even a month old. A girl, by the looks of it, with long blonde hair. She was sleeping, wrapped in a blanket which protected her from the rocky ground.

As silently as he was able, the Emperor approached the sleeping infant. He took a good look at how the Warp was acting around her, confirming what he had felt from a distance. The Warp was calm all around the child, the phenomenon stretching several feet all around her.

"What are you?"

He reached out, his mind to hers. He looked beyond this incarnation and peered into the memories of her past life. What he saw surprised him.

She was like him, a powerful reincarnation on par with himself. But where he had been reincarnated from thousands of souls, she was only one. He frowned and looked deeper, moving as gently as possible. He didn't want to hurt the child.

He saw a great kingdom in the solar system, a golden age for humanity. Each planet held its own culture and wonders, protected by powerful female soldiers wielding the fundamental forces of the universe. His frown deepened. This had not happened, none of it. He had lived for thousands of years, tens of thousands. He had seen several empires rise and fall as he subtly guided humanity, and there had never been this planetary empire. Even if it had proceeded him, there would have been the remains of the technology. But there wasn't. He had walked every inch of this world in his lifetime. What he saw could not be. The memories weren't false, though. He sensed no deception within the girl's mind.

He continued his perusal of her memories, and what he saw changed his frown into a snarl.

'Chaos.'

The child squirmed a bit in her sleep, and the Emperor calmed himself. Connected as they were, the girl would be sensitive to his moods. He was incredibly powerful, and from what he could tell she would be as well. But she wasn't, yet. He would have to be more careful.

He saw Chaos descend upon the empire. He saw soldiers fight bravely against daemonic hordes, grotesque monsters that laughed as they stripped flesh from the bone and rent bodies asunder. He saw the guardians of the planets fight bravely against overwhelming odds, refusing to give an inch that wasn't soaked in the blood of their enemies. He saw them fight, he saw them kill and he saw them die.

And in the end, the leader of this horde confronted the queen of the empire, this child's mother. Just as the hands of death were about to grasp her, she struck a risky gambit. With her power she banished the horde and gathered the souls of the slain, sending them onto the path of reincarnation. But the horde was near infinite in number, and the souls of the dead in the millions. The effort of it drained her, and cost her life. The Emperor marvelled at her courage, at her love for her people and the love for her child. She was a worthy leader, to sacrifice so much for them.

But he could see that it did not all go as the queen had hoped. As a final parting blow, Chaos redirected the reincarnation of the princess and her mightiest soldiers, sending them beyond the barriers of universe and time. They veered wildly off their path, eventually ending up in another realm altogether.

"So that is it," the Emperor muttered as he left the child's mind. "You come from another place entirely, little one."

He picked the child up gently, trying not to disturb her. She wiggled a bit and awoke, looking at him with eyes as blue as the sky. She smiled and reached up, cooing as she grabbed a lock of his long black hair. He smiled a bit as she tugged on it. She was fascinated by the long, flowing strands, wrapping her hands all around them.

"I need a name for you, little one," he said softly. "Give me a little bit to find something suitable."

He turned and made his way back to the camp where his army lay, chuckling a little. He couldn't wait to see how his generals and advisors reacted to this.


	2. Chapter 1

**Lovehammer: Sailor Moon 40K**

* * *

**Solar-Class Troopship 'Final Journey', Somewhere in the Warp**

Little did I know what was waiting for me in this dark and stormy night.

Well, at least I felt that way. As much as you can feel that way on an interstellar troop carrier bringing you to near certain doom once again, faster than the light could travel.

Through a realm inhabited by literally soul crushing horrors. That clawed and hissed against the boundaries of the feeble wards keeping them away from the fragile shell that carried you through a lifeless void which alone would kill you horrible within seconds.

But I digress. The actually horror I faced was far worse this day.

Due to its usual incompetence the Administratum Munitorum had managed to send the 597th Valhallans, and more especially me, on our way without adequate supplies and equipment to properly conduct our mission in His Holy Name.

More specific, without an ample supply of tanna tea.

To make matters worse, I discovered this malady only today, in the midst of nowhere, in transit to Hades VI. I was extremely tempted to dispense liberal amounts of commissarial judgement to our resident quartermaster, but since both Colonel Kasteen and Major Broklaw had already made their displeasure know I doubted that even an Hero of the Imperium could strengthen the mans newfound motivation.

No, it was probably more productive to ponder an adequate response to the Administratum Munitorum. A response that included the Inquisition, Heresy and the need to contain an obvious Daemon infestation. I was getting there, I just had to set the accentuation right.

Unfortunately, the actual response and probably even the much needed re-supply with goods critical for moral and combat effectiveness of the whole unit had to wait until after our expedition to Hades VI. An expedition that bordered on suicidal senselessness again.

I did not know much about our target, I just knew that the powers that be had to be seriously out of their mind (or reading too much in certain reputations…again). Why else would they send a single regiment to deal with an Ork infestation?

At this point, I was tempted to remove the energy cells from my las pistol to stop any temptation of reliving some stress in the form of excess heat.

Of course, I didn't. You would be surprised in what you can run into on a troop carrier, amidst thousands of highly trained, loyal and armed troops. It is not paranoia if they are out to get you. I could barely contain my reflex to reach for my not existent cup of tea.

Somehow, and I am confident that it was not to any psychic talent, the average guardsmen around me sensed my mood and kept out of my way. Widely out of my way.

With only minimal grumbling and scowling I entered the briefing room, acknowledging the greetings of the petite Colonel and Major Brooklaw with little more than a terse nod and a grunt. The company commanders stayed wisely silent. Most of them looked as if they were fairly sure that I would not shoot them out of sheer depression. They paid me too much credit, as always. A true Hero of the Imperium did not huff if he noticed stale recaf in the cup waiting for him. But since I do not consider me any form of hero, true or not, I felt free to do so.

"Very well, we will now begin our last major briefing of the command staff before we leave the Warp tomorrow." The grizzled Major began, ignoring me for now.

With a sizzling sound the hololith sprang to flickering live, creating the ghostly, diffuse image of a dull red, maybe even violet world hanging idly in the black of space. It was hard to tell with the flickering and static fluttering of the machine, but the world looked decidedly unassuming and uncivilized. No major settlements could be seen, no space installations and well, the planet itself did not look inviting at all. Even as I pondered once more what made men and women thousands of years ago leave their plush and comfy homes just to travel for months or years through the chaotic warp and then try to make a new living for themselves on a new world only to choose such an obvious crapsack world, Broklaw continued.

"As you all should know by now" here he gave me a look, which I answered with my best 'TheCommisarknowsall'-face, "This is Hades VI, a planet with only a minor population of a few million and two single PDF regiments defending it. Several standard weeks ago, an Ork ship, well, fell, literally out of the warp in close proximity to the planet. It was obviously damaged, no doubt due to the crude technology the Orks use failing on itself. After a brief scuffle with the only picket in this system the ship proceeded to crash on the planetary surface. Unfortunately, a sizeable number of Orks have survived the crash. Since then, the planetary forces have been fighting the advancements of these."

"Wait a minute" Captain Sulla spoke up, bewilderment in her voice. "Are you telling me that a couple of PDF goons have been fighting off an Ork incursion for weeks now and they have still not been overrun?"

While I did not think that such open discredit for the brave men and women fighting for Emperor and Imperium in the planetary defence forces was contributing to the overall morale, even a Commissar had to choose his fights. And trying to defend integrity, discipline and fighting prowess of the average PDF regiment was well; let us just say that the Emperor would have made me a Primarch if he intended me to do that. Some may say that Jupiter is with all of us who fight in the His's Name, but I have not yet met anyone in the Imperial Guard who would extend that to the PDF.

Broklaw didn't even hesitate in answering the question, staring flatly ahead.  
"Indeed, the 1st Cerberus Knights and 1st Tartaros Guards have done so."

These were pretty boasting names for simple backwater PDF units, but Planetary Governors had been known to choose even more unique names. Although it left a strange taste in one's mouth to serve alongside the Funk Patrol.

"It should be mentioned that the Ork ship crashed in very rough terrain, limiting their advance and mobility, and for once, the amount of the green tide is limited. This is by no means a full fledged Waagh, or even a major tribe of Orks. Even before the crash killed probably most of them, their force was not very sizeable to begin with."

"So… we are deployed there exactly… why?"

If I would be a more pious man, I would pray to the Emperor that I did not just spot disappointment in the voice of Sulla. Sadly, my hearing was not that far gone and I do not think that He On The Throne Above All would notice an average individual like me. At least I hoped so, very much. I am just a simple man trying to live his life in the shadows of others, nothing interesting to see here.

So this kind of easy mob up operation was exactly up my alley. Well, as long as I still did not have that teaching position at the Schola, together with a live time supply of tanna tea.

My Las pistol suddenly looked so inviting again as I once again noticed the recaf.

"A good question, Captain, and one I am not sure how to answer. It appears, that the Adeptus Mechanicus have an outpost on Hades VI. When the Orks did crash there, the Adeptus send out a distress call that seems to have kicked up a gaunt nest somewhere. Our orders come from high up, very high up indeed, maybe as far as Segmentum Command, and they did send us out here to stop the Ork infestation with all means necessary."

Glances were exchanged around the table. For Segmentum Command to be involved with a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere, not even close to any enemy activity, was unusual to say the least. And to send a veteran regiment like ours against a ragtag band of Ork skirmishers was exactly the kind of thing I preferred to be doing. What made it more suspicious than ever. Ever since I started to rack up my undeserved fame I did not get the 'easy' missions. Or even the sane ones. Mind numbing horrors, dangers beyond mortal keen and the certainty of gruesome death were the course. But maybe, somehow, I would get a break this time. Surely, not all our missions could be unmitigated disasters waiting to happen? Even the most unlucky person in the Imperium deserved a break, sometimes.

"As strange as this my seem, my contacts and direct superiors were not able to shed more light onto the situation." Colonel Kasteen interjected in the uneasy silence. "I have heard rumours about an unusual line of authentication code added to the message. Ancient beyond all reasonable assumptions and buried so deep in the databanks that no one has any clue about it. Before my contacts could provide more specific information we were forced to depart with all undue haste. You all have noticed how little time we did get to muster our forces."

That I had indeed. No tanna tea… but still, I had not known that the Imperium even 'could' respond with this kind of speed. In none of my campaigns a unit had been sent out on such a short notice. This did not bode well. And even worse, by the twitching of my palms I could tell this would be no break for me. None at all. The palms do not lie.

After a nod from Kasteen, the Major continued with a grumbling undertone.

"Well, no matter any strange codes or undue haste, we are not sure how far the Orks have advanced since we received the message."

After a brief, well, reasonable brief pause for an apparatus that was both older and more moody than me, combined with the stumbling manipulations of Brooklaws hands, the hololith display changed and showed us a tactical map of Hades VI and its major settlements.

Well, almost settlements. The population was concentrated in a major city along the coast, around a symbol that marked the Mechanicus Outpost. A couple of smaller cities were spread around it, covering only a small amount of the landmass. All in all a reasonable defensive position, and the symbol of the crashed Ork ship was indeed hundreds of miles away, deep in some rugged terrain of mountains and hills. With symbols of crude ork units advancing over it and pressing against the stylized figures of a three headed dog and a black sickle.

Such individual regimental symbols were also very non standard, but that was almost par of the course with backwater PDF regiments it seemed. And it surely beat the look of the head covered by very voluminous hair I remembered from a certain other backwater PDF unit.

But something was strange here. I squinted and began to manipulate my dataslate, looking over the information and missing the detailed report of the PDF and Ork status that Broklaw delivered. I gaped.

"What in the Warp? That is a death world? Why have they not deployed some Kriegans or anyone else who doesn't mind living in a gas mask?"

Normally I would have been more gentle about sharing my concerns with the troops, morale and appearance and all that jazz, but a toxic world? And Hades VI was that. It had come to me as I watched the… ocean on the coastline. Who in their right minds would settle on such an Emperor-forsaken place?

It was an ammoniac ocean for Emperor's sake. On the whole chaos-dammed world you could not live without an environmental suit. It was a death trap. Shrapnel and almost hits became a whole new ballgame. A game I did not like at all.

"Ahh, yes. I was coming to that later… but indeed. The atmosphere of Hades VI is not breathable for humans and prolonged contact to skin has also quite serious, permanent effects… As I understand it, the settlements are all under some kind of protective dome that keeps the hostile conditions at bay. The PDF forces in the field are equipped with environmental suits, probably distributed by the Adeptus Mechanicus. On that point, several other parts of their equipment seem to have come from the same source and their material is maybe even on par with our own; of course the same will probably not be true for their fighting spirit and professionalism."

While that was an interesting and highly unusual fact by itself, after all, PDF regiments did 'not' get the same or even roughly equal equipment as standard Imperial Guard regiments, much less so compared to highly decorated veteran units as ours, I was presently more concerned about choking to death from a shallow scratch in my envirosuit on an obscure death world no one had ever wanted to hear about.

"Fortunately, we were equipped with comparable environmental suits and our vehicles are currently being modified to be able to operate under these conditions, too. How the Orks are even able to survive in that kind of atmosphere is anyone's guess, but I do not intend to dwell on that. I will busy myself with burning a hole in their collective heads."

Grim smiles were exchanged at that and the spirits of the men, and women, lifted. Sheep, all of them. Fighting on a world where the world itself was actively trying to kill you and let you choke on your own innards? Some days, it certainly not paid to get out of the bunk.

I needed a cuppa…. Oh, right.

My hands crept to my Las pistol, again.

"Major Broklaw? What about the fifth planet in the system?" Captain Federer spoke, looking up from his own dataslate. "The data says it's a perfectly liveable planet, with mild climate, and near perfect conditions for humans. Yet it is not inhabited and there is some kind of quarantine order by an obscure authority I can not place."

Well, the man was right. That was just another strange thing in the weirdness of this all. Who not touched in the head by Chaos would choose to live on a hell world when the directly neighbouring planet was as close to a paradise world as you can get?

But I was still more concerned about dodging rippers, cleavers and crude bullets while fighting for my life just to scratch open my protective gear on some rock to die to an odour even more foul than Jurgen's, as hard as it may be to believe.

The Major shrugged his broad shoulders. "I do not know, Captain. But the order is valid as far as I can tell, and the enemy is on Hades VI. So we have no need to concern us with other people's problems."

That was it. As soon as we got back, I was going to discuss some things with certain people somewhere in our chain of command, preferable over the business end of a Las pistol. And not even a life long supply of tanna would get them out of it.

Well, maybe. If it's the good tanna.

**Hades VI, Mountains of Mourning**

I did not know if to sigh in relief or not when the lander touched down. Sure, no longer being afloat in the air or even space in something only mediocre armed and armoured while being a prime target had its obvious advantages. On the other hand, being delivered to a sooner or later active combat zone did not look that promising to me, either.

And I still hadn't had my cuppa, dammit.

For now, all I could do was to follow the senior command staff and the troopers of the first company out on the field. I did not look forward to being out in the open at all. While I did not expect, say… Orkish Snipers of all things to be waiting for me, it was only prudent to be cautious. But my more pressing concern was my current attire.

I may have been assured that the envirosuit did as was promised, and isolated me completely from the deadly atmosphere (I had tested it with Jurgen's odour, just to be safe) and I did like the fact that it was actually armoured and allowed me for once in my career to wear an actual helm in a combat zone; nonetheless, there was just one small thing that I could gripe about. Or not so small after all. Due to some inane regulation in an obscure part of the Commissariat Manual that someone had helpfully pointed out to me, the Commissarial Cap, properly capitalized as it was only fitting from its looks, was a required part of a Commissar's battledress, no matter the circumstances. That had lead directly to my cap being strapped onto my helmet with some Emperotape (the stuff that holds the Imperium together) and distinct sniggers just beyond the corner of my eyes. Well, I was looking forward to see how latrine duty was working on a death world. I had a certain, very distinct feeling that my chance to observe it would come very soon.

The deathly atmosphere swirled around us and I could almost feel it eating away at the protective carapace suit I was wearing as we stepped on the surface of the planet.

Since the pitiful thing that was called space port on this planet had actually been too small to hold more than a single company landing craft, and the fighting was still 40 clicks away from the actual cities, it had been decided to land our troops directly behind the lines of the PDF regiments. Most had been pleasantly surprised that these were actually still holding out and putting up a fight, but I was pretty sure that it had more to do with the fact that even the Orks couldn't possibly want this planet.

The area was buzzing with activity, I saw several squads of soldiers running around, carrying heavy equipment or fortifying a position or two.

Only a hasty step forward saved me from being overrun by a stumbling Jurgen, clinging to his oversized Melta even on this death world.

"Sorry, Commissar. I can hardly see the ground here."

Which was true, while faint wisps of smoke, or more probably gas were in the 'air' and did not really limit sight but more underlined the alienness of the world and the glee with which it was waiting to choke any human to death, the ground was a different matter. It was covered in purplish coloured fumes, swirling lazily with each movement that disturbed them and making each step a death trap.

"It's okay, Jurgen, just be careful where you point that thing."

I waved at the engine of fiery death that Jurgen swung around so casually and surveyed the surroundings further. We had landed next to a solidly fortified field command, supposedly holding the joint senior staffs of the 1st Tartaros Guards and Cerberus Knights. The fighting must have been even less intense than we had anticipated, because the PDF had even managed to muster a small Honour Guard awaiting us. Their envirosuits were definitely a different model than ours and the vehicles and even Las guns I could see were far from the junk that normally found its way in PDF hands. I had seen Guards Regiments who fielded shoddier equipment.

A trio of Chimeras, equipped with twin-linked heavy bolters, roared away from the camp, no doubt carrying some unfortunate souls directly in the way of a green tide. A couple of matte black Sentinels silently stood guard about a quickly pulled together bunker, and I spotted at least one Hydra emplacement ready to cleanse the sky of any IDC-Codes its gunners did not like.

The Cerberus Knights seemed to prefer very bleak, subdued colour schemes for their armour, almost making the Death Guard looking hip, while the Guards used a grey dull colour code.

I stepped up to Colonel Kasteen and Major Broklaw, currently exchanging greetings with their counterparts in the PDF. A lumbering giant that rivalled an Ogryn in sheer size was apparently the commander of the Cerberus Knights, his suit forgoing all attempts at colour and standing true to black in black. And was that an actual Power Sword on his hip? Suddenly I felt almost inadequate with my meagre chain sword.

The third Colonel looked more as if an actual human was wearing the armoured suit.

"… and this is Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium."

I shot a withering glare to Kasteen, who just replied with a small smile visible behind her faceplate.

"Hero of the Imperium. Princess and Emperor, we never expected such a great person to visit our small world." One of the adjutants called out. While thankfully, the human sized one Colonel was a bit more restrained.

"Fascinating. We are looking forward to our mutual cooperation with a Hero of the Imperium."

Secure in the knowledge that any sigh would be hidden inside my envirosuit, I felt free to do so. But his exclamation had been an unusual one. I would have more expected it from a Sister of the Sororitas, the only ones who still openly venerated the Princess, the Emperor's firstborn daughter.

On the other hand, I could care less about the personal idiosyncrasy of the average PDF trooper or officer and more about the mob of Orks no doubt waiting for me to show myself and deliver a certain unlucky Commissar to the Emperor himself as swiftly as possibly.

"I assure, Colonel, I am just here to serve as a servant of the Emperor, like you and your men."

It was plain to see that the adjutant could barely contain himself, wanting to go on about some trip about heroism and further nonsense, but Major Broklaw took pity on my behalf and suggested to get inside the field command and begin our briefing on the latest local developments.

"*hiss* As you wish. *hiss*"

Something seemed to be wrong with the voice box of the hulking Colonel, but his peer did not seem to mind and they escorted us into the, Emperor be praised, enviroisolated field command. I was not looking forward to wear all this gear for any time in the field, even if it protected me from Jurgen's…extravagances.

My fellow guardsmen and women looked similar relieved and even the locals looked more comfortable in less restricting uniforms.

Well, except for the dark Colonel making no sign to remove his suit. Probably noticing our uneasy glances the Cerberus Colonel, a skeletal thin man outside of his suit, looking strangely haggard, commented.

"Please, do not concern yourself with Colonel Radev. His health is… impaired, and he needs the special environment that his exoskeleton provides to survive."

I eyed the mentioned one again, much more closely now and nearly did a double take.

That was no suit at all, it really was an exoskeleton. The man must have been closer to a servitor than any other commanding officer I had ever seen. I shuddered to think what injuries he had sustained that had made such extreme measures necessary.

During the strategy meeting, I kept mostly in the back, leaving comments and talking to the experienced minds of regular Colonel's and Major's, while I studied the local counterparts and their subordinates.

Not only was their equipment indeed comparable to any guard unit I had ever seen, they also radiated a calm professionalism that should not have been there in the rag tag bands that usually made the bulk of PDF regiments. If they continued to show such qualities in the field I had little doubt that our recommendations would lead to them forming an actual Guard Regiment and being deployed to some frontline soon. Not something anyone sane would wish upon his fellow man.

"… as you can see here, we have deployed our forces alongside the obvious lines of the lower hills, giving us the height advantage versus the approaching enemy." The skeletal PDF Colonel droned on in a monotone that could have bored a servitor to tears. "We made sure to heavily camouflage our reserves along the shallower hills, creating the illusion of a weakness in our lines and deploying various decoys around our command centre, creating the appearance of overwhelming strength here. Once the enemy strikes against our perceived weak spots, our reserves will pull in for a flanking strike against his main angle of attack, to…"

I felt my spine turn into an icicle. "Wait a moment" I grunted out, appalled at what I had heard and breaking all regulations of joint briefings. "You are telling me that you have set up a trap. For Orks. To strike at a weak spot. And avoid heavy fighting. For Orks_._"

The Colonel didn't look flustered at all by my outburst.

"I assure you, Commissar Cain, that our preparations have been meticulous, and our electronic warfare department did create various transmissions…"

I stared at the man as if he had turned into a Greater Demon. Of Slaneesh. Who had just said he was not in the mood for 'it' right now.

Kasteen formulated my reservations in words far more polite than I would have been able too.

"Electronic warfare? Against Orks? Colonel… with all due respect, have you ever fought against Orks before?"

"I fail to see what the problem is, Colonel Kasteen." The hopeless sap replied, just to be interrupted by his colleague in this farce.

"*hiss* I find your lack of faith *hiss* disturbing." His voice box was really off. And the breathing sounds were harsh indeed. "*hiss* Every single one of my men *hiss* is properly motivated *hiss* to give his all in *hiss* combating the Enemies of Princess and Emperor. *hiss* I made sure of it. *hiss* Personally."

They were insane. Insane, all of them. And we had to work with them.

"It is not a problem of faith, I assure, …" Major Broklaw was interrupted by the thundering roar of an artillery shell exploding outside and way, way too close to our position for my comfort.

Suddenly alarms yelled through the camp, and various soldiers exploded.

Into action, thankfully.

"Sir, sensors are reporting multiple targets moving towards our position, several company strength units with various support units and reserves behind them."

"… forward positions report contact, repeat, contact with heavy Ork forces. They are outnumbered and falling back to reinforced positions…"

"…armoured vehicles and walkers detected along the …."

"…unspecified aircraft, identified as Ork units moving in along…"

"…platoon bravo taking casualties…."

Chatter and reports from Vox operators flew through the command, way too fast and too many for me to actually translate in context, but clear enough for me to get the gist of it.

A major Ork offensive. And I was sitting directly in the way of it. Again.

"Alert companies alpha through epsilon, they are to redeploy to secondary positions along vector tango-four."

Well, I had to hand it to the PDF flunkies, aside from cooking up a colossal bullshit situation, they kept their cool under fire. Colonel Kasteen was already coordinating the deployment of our first company along with them, while they gave out orders for their forces. The ground shook again under heavy artillery fire and I could hear the scream of bolters spraying metal death through the air far too close for my liking.

"*hiss* Platoon bravo, *hiss* this is Colonel Radev. *hiss* You are to hold your position *hiss* under all circumstances. *hiss* Reinforcements are deploying behind you. *hiss* Death is Her Service.*hiss*" Three guesses who was the owner of the mechanical, raspy voice.

I had to think, and act, fast. I turned to Kasteen.

"Colonel, permission to take a squad and scout our flank for approaching enemy reserves."

She barely spared me a glance, nodded to something or the other and I had everything I needed. I hurried to the environmental lock, already putting my suit back together. Jurgen was hot on my heels, quite used to my quick responses during combat.

The camp had changed significantly from before when I once again dove in the deathly fumes of the outdoors. Las guns were brought in positions, troopers rallied to fortified points, chimeras poured out of our transport and I spotted no less than three Leman Russ tanks with some weird turret configuration in dull grey colours rolling across the field. The two black Sentinels were already marching forward, their heavy steps vibrating through the ground, Las guns swivelling around, looking for a target to cook in some obscene amounts of joules of energy.

Thankfully, my trusty Salamander had already been unloaded, and I sprinted towards it. To my dismay, I could already see Sergeant Jerrod with his squad and their chimera waiting next to it.

"Commissar Cain, Sir. Major Broklaw ordered us to support your scouting operation and give you fire support." The man snapped smartly as I drew closer.

"Great, Sergeant. We… just try to keep up, we will do a long range reconnaissance at the edge of our flanking lines. Try to avoid direct enemy contact, this is a scouting mission. This time, intelligence is more worth than heroics in His name on our part, as much as all of us may regret it."

I gasped out while I nearly shoved Jurgen in the driver's seat. From the glowing faces under the faceplates I am not sure my little speech had the exact effect I desired, but at least they were none of Captains Sulla's boys, happy to charge into a blazing glory like a Jovian Assault Squad.

As we pulled out of the field camp I was fairly sure I could already see a broad, green wave approaching it from across the horizon.


	3. Chapter 2

**Hades VI, Mountains of Mourning, out in the field**

Jurgen gunned the engine pretty hard. I am not sure what the machine spirit of our Salamander thought about it, but as long as it kept working, I couldn't be bothered. Impressively, Sergeant Jerrod and his Chimera did keep up with us.

Mostly, because not even Jurgen could drive in his customary 'completely' reckless speed in unknown, broken terrain covered by ground fumes.

The more heavy sounds of the fighting, screaming rockets, barking bolters and sizzling Las bolts were missing now and if my memory served me well, we should reach the edges of our lines pretty soon. There, I could probably wait out the worst of the Ork assault and maybe ride back 'behind' our reinforcement forces when we swept the Orks from our centre. And lead like I preferred to lead. Safely from the back.

My musings were interrupted by detonations probably less than half a klom from our route, way too close for my comfort. It sounded like Krak Grenades, or maybe their orkish counterpart.

I snapped up a field visor and scanned our left flank. There were some movements. Las gun flashes, hulking green brutes advancing and I spotted at least two guardsmen in a beleaguered position. Covered behind some rocks, on a small rise, close to an even larger but steep and inaccessible hill. My Vox line crackled to life.

"Commissar, there seems to be a minor Ork assault on the PDF lines to our left."

Yes, thank you, Sergeant obvious. But now that he had spotted it clearly, too, it suddenly became a lot harder to explain why we should just drive on. There were moments that I really regretted having to keep up the appearances of my reputation. But then, said reputation has saved my hide so many times now that it has been worth it. Every time.

I just wished it would not have come with such large quantities of bowel-clenching horror. Still, if there was only a squad of Orks or some stragglers, we would have the advantage of surprise, numbers and armoured vehicles with us. A pretty good bet, for any other man except me.

I never got that lucky; never. Something I still had trouble to accept at that time.

"I spotted them too, Sergeant. Drive your men closer to the position and disembark under cover, before reinforcing the lines with your squad. I will carry out a flanking attack with my vehicle."

"Yes Sir, try to leave some for us, Sir."

I scowled at the eager tone carrying even over the static of the Vox lines, and realized that he meant every word of it. He had fully bought in my false reputation and probably believed I was trying to annihilate the enemy force wholly by myself. Actually, my plan was more something along the lines of making a flanking move as wide as possible and arriving shortly after all fighting had died down.

While Jurgen throw us in a curve and the squads chimera broke from our formation, I quickly checked the higher command lines to see if there was another great danger for our forces, and more specifically, my person, that I needed to be aware of.

"Colonel Radev, we should fall back from this position. The Orks are almost at the command bunker, and we can not hold it with our current forces."

"…*hiss*… we will hold the line *hiss* my command vessel will reach our emplacement soon… *hiss*…"

Well, it sounded as if Kasteen was in some serious trouble. Now I was begin to feel guilty about leaving her with these freaky PDF guys. But she was a big girl, she had faced down, shot up and beaten to a pulp some quite impressive things and creatures.

On another note, I couldn't help it. It sounded silly even to myself: the big Hero of the Imperium, being intimidated and freaked by a simple PDF colonel? Honestly, how scary could that guy be?

Princess's Mercy, I should come to regret that line of thought…

I linked out of the command line and got up to man our pintle-mounted bolter. They may not be the standard equipment for Salamanders, but let me tell you; they come in really handy in a pinch and I tried my best to always get one for the Salamanders I rode.

We had circled around the guards pocket now and were approaching the battle.

I briefly toyed with the idea of playing for time and waiting till our side had won, but that had the disadvantage that I could not be sure of our victory. And being alone, even with Jurgen to back me up, in an Ork controlled area sounded actually more risky to my continued well being than being in a battle together with at least a full squad of veteran guardsmen to support us.

So I did what every able bodied, law abiding subject of the Emperor should do and proceeded to attack the foul Xeno's. One of the few times were those expectations did concede with my personal goals of staying alive and healthy.

The Orks were advancing over a slight uphill slope of broken terrain, providing ample cover and were pressing against a beleaguered unit dug in between some rocks.

The men were putting out an impressive amount of high energy death, with expert accuracy.

Las bolts flew through the air, punching chunks out of ground and rocks, forcing Orks in cover or burning green skin and flesh of those less prudent and more eager. Which were a lot, considering we are talking about Orks here.

Unfortunately, we are not talking about Gretchlings either, and while I did not spot a towering hulk of green muscles each one of them was still larger than any men I had ever spotted in the 597th.

They got up from direct Las gun hits to the chest, and barely even acknowledge hits on arms or legs. Their crude, makeshift Bolt weapons spat angry return fire. Primitive bullets detonating with the same force normally attributed to the Holy Bolt Rounds of the Astartes and swinging crude cleavers as large as the Colonel of our regiment, they charged on.

Jerrod had split his squad in two fire teams and reinforced the flanks of the PDF squad, forcing the Orks to advance through a disciplined crossfire. Nothing less than I expected from the veterans of the Valhallan's, but the concentrated fire that the PDF members put out even under heavy return fire might have been less in volume, but by no means less in discipline or precision. I was beginning to like these guys.

"Jurgen, bring us in the enemy's back and then pass along their line in combat tempo."

I was taking a page straight out of the Commissariat's field manual here, one of the few I actually liked. Gunning down His Enemy's from behind is what all His servants should aspire to.

"Very well, Commissar."

Jurgen's voice sounded like I had ordered a refill for my cup of tanna, but he drove on nonetheless and I griped the mounted bolter in my hands.

The green skins did not spare a glance backwards and as I fired, the first rounds of hot, explosive death caught them completely unaware. Literally cutting one of the brutes in half and splattering what was left of him over more than dozen square metres.

It worked like a charm. Caught between heavy fire from two sides, and without sufficient anti vehicle weapons they did not exactly break, as that would require some intelligence or self preservation on their part, but were merely undecided as in which direction they should charge.

Ruthlessly exploiting the 'minutes' of confusion, we neatly cut down any thing green and monstrous between us. I actually spotted an Ork standing there, upright, without any cover and glancing back and forth between us, before a triplet of Las bolts vaporized its head, shortly followed by a staccato salvo of my bolter ripping apart his chest.

I liked to make reasonably sure that things stayed down.

"Okay, Jurgen, take us back to the men. That must have been the last of them."

Between us, we had cut down more than a dozen full-grown Orks.

Even as my driver shifted gears, and we changed direction my palms started to itch.

I threw a wide glance around.

"Jurgen. Get down."

I threw myself to the side, behind the armoured plates of the vehicle, as little protection as they might offer. Still, that probably saved my life as the rocket detonated in a near direct hit and tore our bolter clear of its mounting and throwing our Salamander halfway around. We skidded to an uncontrolled stop, smoke rising from everywhere it seemed. For once, I was glad about our sealed gear.

"Jurgen, are you still with me?"

"Yes, Commissar, sorry for the rough stop."

With any other man I would have spotted a hint of irony within the statement, even if I had to wildly interpret it into the words, but not with Jurgen. He completely lacked the imagination for that.

"We need to get out of here, another rocket could ruin our whole day."

Not waiting for his reply, even I had my limits to blind stoicism, I jumped out on the opposite side of the new approaching Ork wave. We were now pinned in the rocky field, an Ork unit of undetermined size approaching from one side, our own men lying in position a couple of hundred metres on the other side.

Guess in which direction the Hero of the Imperium was running.

And I really was running, not bothering with jumping from cover to cover, but relying on the frame of the Salamander to shield us. At least until the next missile.

But till then, I planned to have a sufficient lead from the Orks. For lumbering hulks brimming with muscles and weighting more than half a dozen standard troopers together, they could be astonishingly fast. I had had managed maybe half the way, still a good hundred fifty metres to go, when my plan experienced a slight derivation.

Namely, me diving for cover as a rock next to me was cracked by enemy fire. I cursed, and locked back from my cover.

There was an Ork with a really hideous looking and way too large gun for my taste who had already circled around the Salamander. Maybe two hundred metres away, way out of range for my Las pistol and Jurgen's Melta, but nominally in range for a standard Las gun. Which we did not have.

Jurgen was actually close to me, how he had kept up with my mad dash for safety while carrying around his oversized Instrument of Imperial Wrath, I was not sure. But I had more pressing things to deal with. Already another Ork was appearing alongside the first, who raked our position with bolter fire.

On this distance, we were pretty safe under cover, Orkish marksmanship is not exactly feared through out the galaxy. But I was doubting the wisdom of leaving the cover for any form of retreat.

Well, at least till the Ork was suddenly punctured by multiple Las bolts from behind me. I could not make out the details of his face, but I suppose he felt as surprised as I did. Well, maybe with a bit more hurt. But he did not fall before a second salvo blew up half his torso, fortunately also encouraging his companion to keep his own head down.

Not arguing with the Emperor's blessing, I continued my mad dash for our lines. Further Las fire poured out from our very much improvised citadel, and I did not stop before I reached the rocks that covered the guardsmen. Severely out of breath, I hunkered down behind the biggest boulder I could find, just a second before Jurgen dived down next to me.

"Nice to meet you, Commissar. I am Corporal Fordo. And thanks for the support; although it's a shame your ride is gone, there is an awful lot of the buggers out there."

I looked incredulously at him as he snapped out another salvo of shots at the Orks, nearly half a klom away. Soon, I focused on his weapon. That was a very non standard Las gun indeed, and I have served with a lot of different regiments.

He seemed to notice my look.

"That's the DC-15A, Sir. Damn fine gun. Standard equipment for ARC troopers."

I shook myself, and took in our situation. Jerrod and his squad were mingled with the PDF troopers now, that gave us fourteen men, excluding me and Jurgen. We were behind pretty good cover, but without heavy weapons aside from Jurgen's Melta. Which was sadly decidedly short range. And my last glance had revealed no less than thirty Orks advancing, with more probably out of sight. I did not like these odds.

"Do we have any assets in the area to reinforce us?"

"Negative, Sir, these guys are really throwing a lot at HQ. Colonel Radev is having a mighty nice time."

Try as I might, I could not hear any irony in these words. Was everyone on this Emperor-forsaken planet mad? That didn't make my job easier, to find an excuse to get the Hero of the Imperium back to the Chimera close by and away from the front. While I was pondering this problem, important to me on a very deep, personal level I heard multiply roars above us, rapidly closing in.

"Heads down" Yelled Jerrod, only a couple of heartbeats too late to make any difference.

I was already crouched low and under the best bulge in the rocks I could find.

Seemingly a full mob of Storm Boyz flew over us, and to this day, I swear they were cackling in glee, no matter how deep or guttural their voices may be. Cackling, and flying directly in the direction of the Chimera. My Chimera.

We snapped some hasty shoots in their direction, but their rocket packs soon carried them out of our field of fire.

The other Orks had not been idle and now every Guardsmen, including me, was firing on the approaching Ork mob. There were a lot more than thirty I guess, but I had not the heart to count them.

One of Jerrod troopers went down, a bolter round punching a whole in his flak vest, finally detonating inside his chest and ripping out his whole back. To my left, Kashal, a mousy women that had never caused any trouble in the regiment or shown up in an reports, suddenly sprayed her head and brains over me as a high calibre round tore her apart.

I squeezed of aimed shots as fast as I could, there was still too much of a distance for rapid fire, but I had some success, too. I put down an Ork with four well placed shots to his naked chest, and discouraged at least three others with hits to their limbs. Although one needed three consecutive hits on an arm before he decided he was bothered.

Suddenly, a rocket streaked from an Ork to us. The launching system looked like little more than a hollow barrel, but Emperor be dammed, it worked all too well.

The missile exploded behind us, and a shower of rocks and shrapnel covered us. Bad enough on the average battlefield, but here, it send three of us to the Emperor. One of the PDF soldiers whose name I never learned, and Reynolds as well as Burke, two of our own which I mostly remembered for their habit of heavy drinking and less than respectable card games that had brought them to my attention. Mostly professional. Shrapnel pierced their envirosuits and they choked up instantly, convulsing and trashing on the ground.

Warp, having to fight battle-crazed killing machines stronger than any unaugmented human was worse enough on its own, but by which warp spawned sorcery did they manage to run around unprotected in this environment so deadly for us?

"Princess Preserve."

A statement I agreed all too readily with, as I saw hulking giant lumbering across the field towards us. He was at least size of an Astartes, with power armour, and where his companions wore at the most crude leather jackets, with maybe two or three hand wide metal plates sewn onto, he had seemingly misunderstood something. It appeared he believed himself to be more of a tank than an Ork, considering the more than finger thick metal plates he was covered in and holding a gun that made a ripper gun look like an undersized children toy.

Taking a calming breath, and aiming for a moment, my weapon held steady by my augmented fingers, I gave him three aimed shots. Two hit him directly between the eyes, the third on his chin. And they glanced off. Off his skin. There were days it really did not pay to get out of the bunk.

Hastily, I ducked my head again, as bolter fire raked about my cover. Another trooper had fallen in the mean time, me not even noticing the hit. I was briefly considering to panic, but as much as I regretted it, I had actually already been in more desperate situations. Also, I refused to show any signs of distress before the local PDF did. My eyes darted around, trying to find something on the battlefield to use to our advantage. And my safety.

I spotted a shallow ravine. Not much, but the deep bark of the Orkish cannon and the literally explosion of a nearly meter big boulder encouraged me to revise my point of view.

"This position is unsustainable. We are lacking heavy fire power. We will retreat, and reattach to the rest of our forces."

Fordo nodded tersely, while Jerrod gripped his Las gun in a near death grip.

"How will we hold them back to cover our retreat, Commissar?"

More accurately, he meant 'who' will hold them back.

"We…"

Before I could disperse my cunning and heroic plan to get out of this tight spot and defeat the green horde, a rocket, and another, and a third struck down over our heads, cracking the rock of the hill.

Some days, I firmly believe that gravity is one of the ruinous powers.

This was one of the days, as the rock was now coming down on us. I folded myself together, covering my head with my arms and praying to the Emperor to protect me from any suit failure. Not that I believe He had not a couple of more important things to do, like containing the Eye of Terror, keeping the false gods of Chaos in check or guiding the fate of humanity, but I felt out of options at that moment.

When the rubble, deadly fumes and strangely coloured gases had died down along with two more of our soldiers, we could hear the cheering of the Orks, now far too close for my liking. The rocky hill side had acquired several severe wounds, and a large gash run along it, broad enough on the ground level to let a man pass. The look was no doubt that of an underground cave, my old tunnel rat instincts and experience undergrounds making it clear as day.

I did not like the idea; I had made far too many unpleasant discoveries underground during various campaigns, and the possibility of a dead end was very real, with emphasis on dead.

But still, we were nailed down by heavy fire, the Orks were encroaching and they would have trouble passing the entrance. One for their size, and second for our suppressing fire.

Something we could keep up for hours at least. Unless they had more rockets. Or grenades. Or even more nasty things.

"Follow me, men, unto the breach!"

It felt strange for me to shout that, but right now I was more concerned with staying alive. Staying low to the ground in a crouch, I sprinted towards the chasm, entering it and managing to come to a stop before I ran headfirst into something. As expected, behind the immediate gap, it was pretty dark inside. The rest of the survivors followed, Jurgen nearly running past me, before I managed to grab him. Saving him from falling down and potentially triggering his Melta, taking us all with him.

The darkness was lightened up considerably as Fordo and his PDF fellow activated luminators integrated in their Las guns. For once it seemed luck was with me on this day, the cave stretched actually in a kind of tunnel, leading further underground. I was firmly resolved not to waste even one thought why there should be an underground tunnel around here. Those questions never lead to anything good. See earlier entries in my notes. At least the cave looked natural.

And no claw marks. Always a plus.

"Okay, we have no choice but to go forward. There is not much in the way of cover here. Corporal Fordo, you and your man take point."

"Affirmative, Sir." In eerie unison the two moved forward, I couldn't be sure in the darkness but it seemed as each movement was identical.

I placed Sergeant Jerrod in my back, trusting my fellow Valhallan's enough to not get any funny ideas about a Commissar's back during combat and keeping them between me and the rampaging Orks.

To my detriment, we had not found the entrance to a vast network of underground tunnels, allowing us to escape somewhere completely unseen. Neither did we found a dead end trapping us at the mercy of the Orks.

In a way, what we found was much, much worse. And definitely a lot more scary.

We found an antechamber, in the bare rock. And a portal. A huge, barred gate made from Adamantium. Wide enough to let a Leman Russ tank pass once opened. The Imperial Aquila stretched golden from one side to the other, residing proudly in the centre. It was underlayed with a purple symbol I had not seen before. It looked like an Imperial Rune, or maybe a Sigel. But nothing I was familiar with.

There was a console next to it.

"Commissar…what is this?"

Considering that the question came from one of the natives I intended to ask the same I was not reassured. But I needed to keep the morale up.

"I do not know… yet."

With a healthy does of trepidation I steeped up to the console. It looked even more obscure and confusing than the consoles I had seen in star ships. I could not even begin to make out some form of control runes on it.

"I don't suppose one of you had a close and personal relationship with a tech priest, did you?"

To my surprise, the cheeks of Corporal Kerin, Jerrods second in command, coloured slightly and she stepped forward.

"I… may have some insight in a few rituals of the Omnissiad, Commissar Cain."

Emperor be dammed, did everyone in the guard sleep around with the tech priests? What was it with the machine boys? Was there something I missed? But I didn't voice my pressing questions, I just waved her forward.

"See what you can make out of that; the rest, defensive positions… I am sure our green, ugly and most certainly not friends will show up soon."

Well, my words were mostly superfluous, as the troopers had already positioned themselves, but they calmed my nerves a bit. I did 'not' want to think about old imperial bunkers. Lying empty, and in reserve, forgotten and never used. Because that was what it was. Had to be.

Sometimes, I tended to entertain a bit of wishful thinking.

Unfortunately, even with all wishful thinking the expression on Kerin's face could not be interpreted as promising. She whispered various litany's and prayers, more than I ever knew and her hands hovered uncertainly above the controls.

"So… Corporal, what do you make of it?"

I did not want to press her, really. But warp, I could already hear the Orks closing in on us.

"I… I have never seen something like that, Commissar… the runes… there are no runes, and there are no sigils of protection, or reinforcement…"

I let out a few chosen words in high gothic I had picked up from one of the high and noble admirer's of a certain undeserving Hero of the Imperium.

The small antechamber got nearly filled with Las bolt fire as a voice replied in high gothic from somewhere.

Only the fact that no one was sure where it really had come from 'saved' the voice from instant retribution. High gothic had never been my strong point, and the dialect sounded quite strange to me. In my surprise, I had completely missed the actual words.

But with a soft hiss the gate rose up and slid open.

I did not want to enter. I knew that stepping inside would be a mistake.

But between making a mistake, or getting an Ork who firmly believed himself to be a main battle tank and all of his friends to know quite close and personally, I preferred the mistake.

So we stepped inside, the others as spooked as me.

Little did we know what force we would unleash on the Imperium of Man….


	4. Chapter 3

**Hades VI, Mountains of Mourning, on route to field command**

Excerpt from Sergeant Duke's Memoirs

I was considering some appropriate threats to get our driver to move the frakking Chimera faster. But since I never had the opportunity to take part in an 'appropriate course of motivating subordinates courtesy to the Commissariat' and just hitting the poor sob till we arrived seemed like a bad idea, I refrained from doing so and just clunk to my Las Cannon.

Suddenly, our ride lurched hard to the right and my squad mates were thrown around like pins. Some kind of missile or other detonated and I could hear the clanking of whatever shit it had blown up raining down on our armoured ride.

"Get up, you bi...bastards." I growled out to the groaning heap of maggots at my feet. I glanced uneasily to the side, but it seemed Chloe hadn't caught my near slip. Emperor protects, that was close. No one messed with Chloe. That Chaos Obliterator on Miles III had thought otherwise, but then, he was not thinking anymore now.

I hadn't even known these fakkers could squeal…

The heavy thud thud thud of rapid firing Las Cannon emplacements was now adding to the general screams and chaos of battle around us. Ahh, how I loved music.

But Captain would hang my ass dry if I just kicked out the hatch and let myself go now.

And I wouldn't mind kicking the Captain's ass, but sooner or later I would have to deal with our resident Commissar. Even I wasn't looking forward to dance with a Hero of the Imperium.

So I had to stay with the rest of the squad. We were racing to bail out the Colonel and Major and the rest of first platoon. Somehow, the PDF frakkers had messed up big time, honking surprise there, and let themselves being nearly overrun by some ugly green things. That made me angry. No one likes me when I am angry.

Still, last transmissions indicated they were still alive by some Emperor delivered miracle, a platoon of them holding the outer lines but in direct melee with the Orks. That was when some wheezing wimp of a Colonel or whatever ordered a massed artillery strike. Directly on the platoon.

Had to hand it to him, it got rid of a lot of the Orks quite handily. But the things were too stupid to die or regroup and just charged on. And there was a lot of them. They had probably reached the field command now and were ripping apart the PDF clowns. If our driver didn't finally pull the throttle out of his ass and floored it.

Something big blew up quite close to us, sounding a bit like Kenny's Chimera.

Well, I had never liked him anyways.

"Did they just kill Kenny?" I shot the babbling idiot a glare and bite down hard on my cigar. Sadly, the idiot shut up before I could do more.

Finally, our Chimera swerved around and came to screeching stop.

"Masks up!" I bellowed and kicked open the hatch, lifting my Las Cannon and snapping out a couple of shots at some movement or the other, jumping down on the ground.

Oh, right… I lifted a hand from my baby and pulled down my own helm.

My mates, and Chloe, swarmed out of the ride, taking up positions and cover around me. P…pansy's.

My Las Cannon burned a couple of Orks to cinders climbing over the rockrete of an autocannon emplacement. A couple of PDF flunkies were still making a show out of fighting the few Orks left around here. It weren't that many. A couple of hundred at most.

Still, I had no time for this frak, and raced over to the command bunker. The doors were already breached, I spotted some quite impressive Orks lying around it, Nobs with Power Claws. No clue how the PDF morons had brought them down, probably bored them to death with their flashlights.

A nice sized bullet passed next to my head, without the suit I would probably have been able to feel the air pressure. I squeezed a couple of shots back and was satisfied to burn the fat bastard from the Wartruck he was riding on. Still, I had to throw myself down and slide a couple of meters, when the Wartruck pulled around and its heavy bolter filled the air above me with enough death to take out half a company of Space Marines. Wusses in Power Armour.

Getting up, I finally hunched down next to the bunker and stormed into it, just a step behind some tight assed lieutenant of second platoon.

"Sir, we are here to evacuate your position…."

The eager voice of the p…pansified sissy in front of me drawled out, and I couldn't help but let out an appreciating whistle as I looked around the interior. Way too much brass for my liking was milling around, clutching some miniatures they called weapons when I wasn't looking.

And half a squad Nobs, maybe one or two more, hard to tell with all the pieces, were flung around the room, deader than the heart of an Inquisitor. Hacked apart, it seemed, no burns or exploded flesh.

There was something looming in front of me that made me want to get a bigger gun, right now. All in black, it looked like I imagined a mix between an Astartes, a Dreadnought and maybe half a dozen Adeptus Mechanicus thrown in for good measure, only less reassuring and mellow. I didn't think it could take on a Gargant and win. Probably. Maybe. I am no betting man.

"*hiss*You may dispense *hiss* with the pleasantries, *hiss* Lieutenant *hiss*."

Damn, that breathing was worse than some of the kriegan weenie's I had beat up, erm, met in a canteen sometime, that told some lame ass stories about gas and mask failures or whatever.

Colonel Kasteen was looking a bit white around the nose under her face plate, but then, she has always been a p…perfect commanding officer.

"Colonel Radev, this position is untenable without heavy support, and the Valhallan's are not equipped…."

An almighty thunder smashed her words aside, followed by the big, bad mother of all booms and I actually had to unclench my sphincter.

"Precisely. *hiss* The Executor has arrived. *hiss* That will be…*hiss* adequate."

I stuck my head out of the broken blast door, and boy, was little Duke a big and happy dude right then. Emperor's balls, that was a frakking Baneblade right there. Eleven barrels squeezing awesome juice out of me.

And how it was pouring it out…

Twin-linked heavy bolters cut Orks in half left and right, large bore Las Cannons vaporized small vehicles whole, and …

Emperor be damned, I threw myself down to the floor, blinded by the bright flash. What fraking moron had equipped a Baneblade with the fraking biggest Plasma Gun I had ever seen. And where could I get one?

No less then seven Leman Russ Executioners, or whatever, were covering it, streaming out their own, star hot discharges over the field reducing Orks to monocles or whatever, something pretty small anyways.

Still, they were too stupid to give up that easily and actually dared to charge the symbol of Imperial Might. I picked up my Las Cannon and tried to pick out a target or two, but Emperor's bowels, in that kind of firestorm it was all but useless.

Whole mobs of Orks were vaporized in instants, large gulches were dug into the ground, and seas of molten, burning rock created. Still, answering rockets, missiles, bolts and stones flew through the air, futilely clashing against some of the finest armour the Imperium had to offer, doing nothing more than marring the dark blue colour scheme.

A different roar mixed in the pandemonium, aside from my laughing while I poured out Las death as quickly as I could in as many directions as possible. A green cloud, fire blazing from it, streaked across the air and the fraking xeno's actually rocket jumped on! the! fraking! Baneblade!

Bolters ripped most of them apart before they landed, but a couple did really make it. The Plasma Cannon blinded me again when it vaporized three Ork trucks at once, and through my blinking I was not sure what I saw.

But if you give me a bottle full of the good stuff, I tell you there was a dark, hulking behemoth sprinting through my line of fire and over the killing field, bullets spraying against it, even while it jumped up and landed on the hull of the Baneblade, cleaving a storm boy apart with a glowing blade. Pivoting around a bolter turret, ducking beneath a Las Cannon blast and gutting three of the gawking Orks like fish.

The last thin I saw off it, before the Plasma Cannon blinded me again and I just decided to frak it and turn around to fight on the other side of the bunker, was the phantom image of the black menace, standing upright. Surfing on the deck of the Baneblade, arm stretched out and cutting down some flying storm boys with a quad linked storm bolter inside said arm, glowing power sword humming in the other hand, a shroud of dark cape billowing behind it.

"Drive me closer, *hiss*… I want to…"

**Hades VI, old imperial underground facility**

The gaping maw of the metal monstrosity towered over us, faint red light glimmering in its depth, and my palms twitched like mad.

Well, I felt like twitching too, but the clanking of the Ork tankette behind us was pretty loud now. So, I did what any self serving hero did, and lead our charge from the front. Away from the immediate danger.

The others needed little encouragement and follow me. We found ourselves in some kind of airlock, heavy duty doors sealed shut before us and another useless control panel inside. The outer gates were still open, and we were running out of time.  
Fortunately, there was only a pair of armoured heavy duty doors in our way.

"Jurgen, open that door." I bellowed, and pointed them out, careful to avoid any confusion for Jurgen.

"Right on it, Commissar."

My stoic comrade at arms replied nonchalantly, lifted his Melta gun and blasted a blistering mass hot as a young star towards the door. At least I had heard that fancy description one time from a tech priest. Be it as it may, it worked and the door was reduced to molten slack.

The poisonous atmosphere billowed inside the structure, and alarm signals began to clank. But to may dismay, the outer gates did not come crashing down, but grinded to a screeching halt before they had moved more than a couple centimetres.

"Lets go on, men, and find a secure position inside."

I briefly contemplated leaving the guardsmen here at the door, holding up the Orks. The position wasn't too shabby, but I had not the faintest, warpspawned idea what might wait in the bowels of this derelict facility, and was not eager to find it out on my own.

Ominous, flickering red light was accompanied by fluorescent fumes as our boots clanked against the cold rockrete of the ground, creating shadows and illusions that could house whole armies of terror invoking nightmares.

I blame my overactive fantasy on my ample experience. What was left of our two squads was spread out around me, my trusty Las pistol was in my hand, but somehow, I knew that it was completely inadequate for whatever we might find.

How right I was.

The structure was old, sometimes we could spot letters in the deceiving light, high gothic no doubt, but none of us was historically interested, and mentally challenged enough to stop and try to decipher them. Other parts were badly damaged, rock and earth had crashed through broken ceiling in several places, automated doors were stuck half open, and at least two consoles we passed were openly sparkling. We did not meet a single living soul down here, not even a servitor.

Now you might think we were just charging blindly in an unknown and obviously spacious facility. And you were right. We had no clue where we were going, my tunnel rat instincts had not left me, but Emperor knows what good it did me to have a feel for the outline of the corridors we passed when I had no idea where we were going. All we could do was to stick to the main corridor and hope to find a second exit. Or an armoury with tools to dispense His judgement on the enemies of Man. Big, honking tools I was hoping.

Unfortunately, the main corridor ended abruptly at another armoured door. The same purpur seal as on the outer gates was covering it, but the Imperial Aquila was missing.

No other door was close by, and I motioned Jurgen forward again.

"Be so good and open us another door, would you, Jurgen?"

Imagine our astonishment when the Melta blast did not vaporize the door, but merely changed its colour to a glowing red and some minor deformations appeared on its surface. That weapon was used to take out main battle tanks, for Emperor's sake.

I like a sturdy door as much as the next guy, but this was ridiculous.

It took two more blasts, before enough door was burned away that a man could pass through it without fear of touching the glowing hot edges.

We spilled inside a chamber. More like a cavern, hung in darkness. I got the feel of an enormous open room. In the centre, more than two dozen metres away from us was the single source of light, a glowing white circle, shining down on a small looking, standing cylinder.

As we stepped closer, slowly, apprehensive we discovered that optics were quite deceiving and the cylinder was in fact taller than a man. The front seemed to be of a transparent material, but fogged up.

"Commissar… I do not think we should be here…" Jerrod whispered.

I barely suppressed a snort. What gave it away? The overbearing, pressing atmosphere around us? The darkness, the quiet feel of a grave? Ancient Imperial technology, not touched by the hands of Man for centuries or more?

What was even more disturbing… where was the gold, the holy relics and symbols of Imperial Glory? Aside from a single Aquila, this whole complex was void of anything indicating His holy domain, offering His protection from the forces of ruin and the enemies of humanity.

No Imperial base would miss that… but there were no signs of heretics or desecrated ornaments either. Nor signs of the Great Enemy.

I was not complaining…not really. But every man felt the sheer wrongness, our hearts were heavy, our spirits apprehensive.

I licked over my dry lips.

"Take position around walls of the chamber. Cover the door. Fordo, you and your man look for another exit. Jurgen…. With me."

I left the soldiers to stumble around in the dark, looking for some hopefully not explosive to take cover behind. My long time aide took his usual position behind my left shoulder, and I warily approached the apparatus in the centre. I really, really hoped it was not what my gut told me it was. And if it was, that whatever was inside was dead. And if not, that Jurgen's null aura would give me a chance to run away screaming.

I noticed my lips moving on my own accord, mumbling.

"Silver Moon in the Sky,

protect us as we try.

Shine thy light onto us,

do not let us humans pass;

gentle in eternal night.

Protect us with your might."

I hadn't even known I still remembered that archaic prayer. In some form or other, it was supposed to be dated even before the 6th Black Crusade. Some in the Ecclesiarchy even considered it blasphemous to call upon the Firstborn Daughter that way. The Emperor protects. The Daugther soothes.

Jurgen refrained from any comment, as usual. He probably had made up his mind about the sanity of his Commissar a long time ago.

With trepedation I, stepped up on the small dais that hold the artifact. Only a soft humming sound was hearable here, the shuffling, surpressed cursing and stumbering around of the soldiers seeming strangely far away.

The transparent surface was completely clouded and fogged up, nothing was visible through the outer layer of condensation. All sound had vanished once I stepped fully on the dais. The humming was gone, I could not hear any of the soldiers anymore. I could not hear my own breathing. I panicked briefly and looked around.

The room was still there, Jurgen was directly behind me. My night vision was ruined but I could still make out some movements in the darkness around us. Just…the sound was gone.

What kind of sorcery was that?

A deep breath later , completely silent, I finally raised my hand, touching the transparent surface reverently and wiping it clear with a careful movement.

Clear, purple eyes stared back at me, unblinking.

A hasty step back nearly cost me my footing and dignity, but I managed to catch myself.

I had been right. This was a stasis pod, or something similar.

And there was a human in there. A girl. I could only see her face so far.

I had been to more worlds than most people ever know in the Imperium, I had meet more people than any dozen random persons together, but I had never seen a face like that.

Young, yet regal, majestetic, it belonged on a effigy, not a person.

Short, black…no, purple hair framing the face. Delicate features, a soft relaxed expression on the face. Whoever had placed her here, he must have felt the same protective instincts that now dwellt up in my breast. Or he simply was not human, none other was possible.

I draw a short, almost hiccuping breath, daring another look.

A tiara was crowning her, golden and filigran. With a jewel resting between her brows, dark, dead and void.

A terrible, terrible suspicion had settled down in my stomach for some time now. And it had only become stronger the deeper we had penetrated in this ancient mausoleum.

A necron lord with a Bloodthirster of Khorne in tow could have walked up to me in that moment, and I would have told them to stuff it.

I do not know how long I did stand there. I probably lost a couple of dozen years. Less from the passage of time, but more from the stress on my poor heart and mind.

Only when Jurgen tackled me, and we fell from the dais in a flailing heap of limps, I returned to the world. With the sounds of heavy lasfire and Orkish grunts around me.

"PROTECT THE DAIS!" I thundered. I had never been Commissar Yarrick. Sometimes, I played the card of the hardass Commissar, but it wasn't my strongest suit. I drew my Las pistol, stepped away from the dias, stood upright and snapped shoots in the direction of the Ork lines without any aiming.

"FOR EMPEROR AND IMPERIUM, YOU WORMS! PROTECT THE DAIS WITH YOUR VERY SOULS!" Right now, it didn't matter. Even a coward and shallow excuse for a human being knew what he had to do now.

"FOR EVERYTHING THAT IS HOLY! HIS EYE'S REST ON US NOW! DRIVE THEM BACK, MEN! DRIVE THEM BACK!"

My behaviour shocked even Jurgen, but it worked.

The men were fighting with a fervour that I could only compare with the zeal of the Astartes themselves, and the Orks faltered. Bolter fire splattered in the room, cutting through the darkness and I heart grunts of pains, when a man was hit. But no screams. And the answering fire of the Las guns was like a storm of lightning, a manifestation of His Divine Wrath, the likes I had never seen before.

Orks fell before us, mowed down like leaves in the wind. More were coming, but it didn't matter. I drew my Chain Sword, and charged. A mighty battle cry on my lips, I would never know what they Orks saw on my face.

But they broke. They turned, and ran.

With wheezing breathing I came to a stop at the blood splattered door.

I had burned more energy in the last seconds than in whole other campaigns combined.

I wanted to crawl in a dark corner and lie down. Closing my eyes, never opening them again.

Groans and moans of the injured and dying around me filled the air, the air crackled from the heated surfaces that had been marred by missed Las gun blasts.

I heard a man sobbing.

But all that was drowned out by the crystal clear sound of splintered transpasteel falling to the floor behind me.

Somewhere

It was a dark and twisted place on a forgotten and fallen world. Unearthly sounds filled the air, the moans of the soulless and the dammed rose from a hundred throats and the force of the despair and hatred projected at this place would be strong enough to render a whole city asunder if only wielded by a psyker.

Just another day in the sector office of the Administratum, droning on as usual. Deputy Ministrum Fuller mistyped a data string again, leading to another world being forgotten and lacking vital food convoys, leading to famine, despair, Chaos worship and eventually ending in the deployment of star ships equipped with Cyclonic Torpedoes in another hundred years or so.

Senior Scribe Argen looked over his desk, eyeing the newest female scribes under his absolute authority while he absentmindedly denied and deleted a request for heavy armor deployment on Drasis IV. Wherever that might be.

But that's not the dark and twisted place we want to visit.

On another dark and twisted place on a forgotten and fallen world, unearthly sounds filled the air, the moans of the soulless and the dammed rose from a hundred throats and the forces of despair and hatred projected at this place would be strong enough to render a whole city asunder if only wielded by a psyker.

A being rested in the shadows, constantly moving, flickering, changing, its form ever shifting from one shape to the next. The old man looked over the rows of his followers, hundreds of empty bodies, their flesh moving and forming beneath her gaze, their souls long gone to feed her appetite. The mind of the twisting piece of meat, not even covered by skin, stretched further and wider than any mortal may comprehend. It saw what was, what is and what could be, in all instances.

Suddenly, the young boy screamed, and in a wave of psychic anguish he destroyed half of his followers crouching before him.

The Great Enemy had returned, awakening, stirring. He could not hear it moving. The possibilities... they did not change…they stilled, they froze. It could not bear it, it would not bear it, it was an affront to everything she believed! In a desperate plea to her Master, the quivering girl called out through the warp. Half a dozen Imperial ships drifted slightly off course through the disturbance, a space hulk fell out of warp and crashed on a moon inhabited by millions, all snuffed out in a titanic explosion and its aftermath, psykers all across the sector writhed in sudden agony.

And the Master responded. A myriad of plans, ideas and possibilities flooded into the raving mass of feathers and tentacled talons, almost too much for it to bear.  
The Great Enemy was moving.

But there was a way… a chance. The Great Enemy would be stopped. The web of fate demanded it; that was the only answer.

And… it knew the perfect 'thing' for the job. It, too, had an axe to grind with the Great Enemy. Chaos was divided. Chaos was united. Chaos would be all that is, Chaos would be all that can be. Soon… very soon.

Hades VI, orbit

High above the surface of an already martyred planed, space unravelled. Energies not meant to exist in a sane universe ravaged the Materium as destructive forces swirled in a maelstrom deadlier than any force the weapons of man could create. Yet it was not a pure, natural phenomenon. It radiated malevolence as it choked the heavens in a foul, tainted grip.

So it was that the Warp Storm raged in the sky above Hades VI.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hades VI, Imperial Sanctum, Inner Sanctum, Most Holy Of Grounds**

The parts of my body that felt most alive were my augmented fingers. Several medics have already told me that it was not only unlikely, but impossible for my heart to have stopped for an instant, but frak them. Stick them in there and they would have felt exactly the same. I turned around and saw maybe the most crushing, the most devastating sight I had ever laid eyes upon in my entire life up to that point.

"Emperor, though You are on Holy Terra, Daughter, though You smile from the Moon…"

My voice died away. There was no holy incantation, no sermon with which to beg for forgiveness for what just had happened. No mercy to shelter our souls from rightful, eternal damnation in the Warp.

A bolter projectile had smashed into the plasteel face of the pod. It had not penetrated the armour, but rather detonated upon it. The force of the bolt had cracked it and a shard had fallen to the floor, shattering upon impact. It sounded to me like the salvation of uncountable souls had shattered in the same instant. The deadly atmosphere of Hades VI was already inside the pod, its damnable fumes having killed off…

"…Commissar? Commissar!"

Jurgen approached me. Confusion on his face. He hadn't realized how we, I, had failed humanity.

Suddenly, there was movement.

The lid lifted, not with a hiss, not with any sound at all, the acidic fumes rolling inside and surrounding the body. I took a hesitant step forward, the rest of the men looking at the pod now, too. Realization had dawned on their faces, and with it horror. Desperation that I had not seen on the faces of victims dragged off by Daemons in the warp.

The corpse of the Royal body, majestic even in death, without any adornments or Holy Symbols lifted an arm.

Realization hit me like Volcano Cannon might hit a speeder bike. I sprinted, my legs pumping like never before, running to one of our dead. I ripped the secondary breathing mask from his face and dragged him, suit and equipment along the floor to the single most important person in the Segmentum. [Redacted by Inquisitorial Authority: One of the single most important persons in the Segmentum.] [Redacted by Senior Inquisitorial Authority: The Inquisition hereby withdraws its redaction.]

"Damnit, Jurgen, help me!" The poor sap was still looking at the pod, the gears turning in his head slowly, veeeery slowly. But as always when he heard an order he moved before running it through any kind of mental faculties he might or might not have possessed.

Together we dragged the body towards Her, sure in the knowledge that the soldier would be welcomed at His side for this act alone, that the equipment he carried could now be brought to such good use.

I am still not sure what the exact protocol for approaching a near divine figure to save his or her life was, but I decided for 'fast' and pressed the breather mask on the regal face.

She opened her eyes in shock, a tremor running through her body. To my amazement she reached up with a slender, white-gloved hand and touched my arm. It was not the crushing grip of a godlike being of overwhelming power, but rather a gentle, careful touch. Nonetheless, she guided my arm away from her face, and with it the breather mask. It was not conscious thought that made me follow the featherlike touch, nor was it force, but follow I did.

And then… She took a breath of the deathly fumes, strangely coloured smoke entering Her nostrils. She smiled at me, and I felt more like a fool than usual.

Of course, a Divine Figure, one of His Children would not be inconvenienced by something as mundane as sure death for any normal human.

Even before Her lips parted, the men around me feel to their knees, their heads bowed in supplication. Words pearled out of Her mouth, washing over me, enlightening my soul, soothing my spirit. Her presence alone elated me above all sorrows.

Her words were in High Gothic. I completely missed what She said.

She looked at me. Her eyes, huge like the Cathedrals of Holy Terra, Her lips slightly parted, ready to dispense Her divine wisdom to guide us mere mortals. Again, She decided to grace us with words from her blessed mouth.

This time, I strained to keep up and decipher the meaning. I did not dare to curse in Her presence, not even in my mind, though I did make up for that amply at a later time. My High Gothic was… bad. It wasn't really used in any functions of the Imperium anymore, aside from some noble that wanted to show off, and Her dialect was like none I had ever heard before.

"Thank you, brave Warrior, but do not concern yourself with me. I have awoken."

I let my arm drop, still holding the breather mask, and stepped back. I considered dropping to my knees, too.

What did one Living Legend of the Imperium say to another Living Legend of the Imperium? Not that I ever would presume to place a lowly grunt like myself anywhere close to the Divine Being standing before me. Still, 'Uhm… me sorry… please … no mention father me… when next you see, yes?' did not sound like the proper opening words.

Considering later events, I should have tried it nonetheless.

My esteemed reader would have to be a heretic or a Xeno to not have already concluded the identity of She who stood before me. But to be precise, it was a Senshi of Humanity, an Anima of the Imperium, a Daughter of the Divine Emperor of Mankind Himself. She was human; She was as far above humanity as the Primarchs of the Mighty Adeptus Astartes themselves.

To my deep shame I must confess that I did not recognize Her precise identity. Any self respecting Inquisitor would likely have shot me for that, but the legends of the Anima were far more obscure than the legends of the Primarchs. They were simply not as present in current Imperial life. They had no legions of Super Soldiers to remind everyone of their legacy, nor were their legends as battle strewn and bloody. I could hardly remember ever seeing a bust of any Senshi, even in paintings they were gentle, unassuming, overshadowed by the superhuman figures of their Brothers or their Father Himself. I had hardly any idea about what they looked like, save for Senshi Jupiter. She who wields the Lightning, She who shields humanity and strikes down those who dare to threaten humans with Her thunderous anger, She who cares for each of His soldiers and lends Her strength, courage and fury to their cause. The patron saint of the Imperial Guard, forever remembered and revered. A small spark of Her wrath living on in every Thunder Hammer and Lightning Claw, ripping apart even the greatest of humanity's foes.

But this was not Senshi Jupiter. She was not tall, nor was Her hair long and silky, of a colour like the bosom of Mother Earth. She also did not have an aura of elemental might around Her, nor did she radiated the warmth of a mother, embracing everyone at once.

This Senshi, she was… small. I towered over her. She had a lithe, slender figure, delicate like a flower. Clad was She in a suit of pristine white armour, the only armour I have ever seen to cling to a body like a second skin. Long, elbow gloves of the same white covered Her arms, the back of Her hands reinforced with pure Adamantium. A golden circlet indicating Her status as royalty and a short, deep purple skirt covering her upper thighs. Her legs were bare, aside from the near knee high purple boots. A red bow with Her personal seal in purple adorned Her chest. On each of Her divine shoulders rested a pair of short, stubby muzzles, in a dark purple like her skirt, mounted on smooth, bend metal plates hugging Her shoulders. In Her right hand She wielded Her weapon, a glaive as tall as myself with a shaft made from deepest night and a dull, silvery blade.

Her eyes widened as She took in the scene around us.

I winced. That was certainly not how a Holy Figure of the Imperium was to be greeted, amidst a battlefield, surrounded by the dead and lowly troopers. I was still trying to come up with some words, anything, to acknowledge Her. But all the words in High Gothic that came to my mind right then were 'run', 'please' and 'Oh Emperor, no!'

"Commander, what happened here? Why did Father send you to wake me? Has he another use for me?"

"I… Commissar Cain… me honoured to be present Senshi Holy. We fight. We protect. Not worry, we kill enemy. You save."

I admit that my High Gothic was not the best at that time. Unfortunately, I was the only one present who could even manage as much as that. Besides, the rest of the men were busy praying or openly weeping. Aside from Jurgen, that is. My aide had just fallen down, unconscious from the shock. At least, that's what I assumed back then…

"HUMMIEZ!"

I whirled around when I heard the battle cry, raising my hand, only to realize that I had dropped my weapons somewhere across the room when I had been dragging the soldier's body over. The other men were hardly in any better condition, groping for weapons dropped in their shock.

A hulking green wall of metal, and I suppose some flesh too, charged me, cleaver raised high and sheer primitive savagery contorting its visage. Any other day, any other circumstances, I would have run, dived to the floor or fluttered my arms and turned around in small circles, making distracting noises. Not this day, not here. I stepped forward, prepared to meet the charge, to catch the cleaver in my body and die.

But a small, gentle hand touched my arm, and again without conscious thought I stepped aside. Eyes, open like the night sky, a slim, almost childlike body and a face more delicate than porcelain met the charge of a bloodthirsty savage. And stopped it.

In any other circumstance, it might have been laughable. The huge, hulking behemoth clad in the finger thick armour plates came to a stumbling stop not even a meter from Her presence, confusion written large on its ugly face.

"What hummie doing... Me wantz fight'ng!"

Others of the green horde behind it appeared as confused, muttering to themselves in their barbaric bastardization of the Gothic language.

"Why?" The voice was meek, barely above a whisper, but everyone in the room heard it as clear as a bell. I was the only one who understood it, or so I believed at the time. "Why must you fight? Please, do not make me kill you. You can leave."

"Hummie strange, yes? 'ulk not 'ure if wanna catch crazies, but 'ulk SMASH!"

And with the power of alien muscles, the damnable Xeno brought down its arm, wielding the cleaver, blade bigger than the girl's torso with force enough to split blessed Astartes Armour.

I jumped forward, knowing it was too late, but Emperor be damned, I would kill that thing before it harmed Her with my bare hands!

A miniscule movement of a wrist, and crude Orkish metal met silvery blade. Without any sound, the weapons collided and deadlocked, the Ork's muscles straining with enough power to shake a Chimera. The blade did not quiver and I felt how the Anima looked with eyes full of sadness at the lost being in front of Her. With a simple turn of Her arm the cleaver moved to the side, Her bladed weapon cutting unerringly towards the pitiable creature.

But the Ork was a not a simple boy, it was a veteran amongst its brethren, almost as big as a Nob, stronger than an Astartes, with the cunning, instincts and reflexes of a perfect killing machine. It jumped back in time, the blade only nicking its shoulder, and then crashed to the ground devoid of all life, its face slack and relaxed. Empty.

The other Orks clutched their crude weapons, looking disbelievingly at the Daughter of the Emperor as She raised Her divine gaze to them, judging them for their sins. But their confusion changed to burning aggression, battle lust in an instant.

I crashed to the ground next to Her, the target of my jumping charge being an empty husk on the floor. And as I raised my pounding head…

"Zap!"

"Zap! Zap!"

Blood sprouted out in exploding geysers; screams filling the air as faces exploded.

"Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! Zap! …"

Her divine Hellguns spewed Her righteous judgement upon Her enemies, their heads and faces coming apart under Her wrath, standing helplessly before Her might.

All that time I saw that Her face was calm, passive, with only a faint hint of sadness in it.

**Hades VI, Tomb of Saturn**

Finally, the storm of Divine Wrath died down. Together with the last Ork.

Feeling faint, I climbed back to my feet, trying to gather the shrouds of my tattered dignity.

Ah, frak it. I was allowed a bit of freaking out in my opinion.

Besides, I was holding it together better than most of the men. They were still kneeling in prayer, only one of them had had the presence of mind to pick his Las gun up again. And Jurgen was still out.

Slowly, gracefully with the presence of a Holy Being, She turned towards me.

And bowed in a smooth, formal movement. I was at a loss at what to do and tried to bow back. I somehow doubt it looked very elegant.

"Commander… Commissar. Sorry about this. Are there any further hostile aliens in the vicinity?"

Protocol be damned, I had no clue how to address Her. Emperor guide my soul, but I am just a lowly grunt, not made to interact with the pinnacles of Humanity.

"Err… ambush Orks…run..retreat this place. More yes; sure not. Attack on Guard. Fighting. Away."

Again, She regarded me with a gaze of exalted eyes, looking deep in my soul and knowing all of my secrets. Well, since She didn't strike me down that instant She probably did not see all my secrets and who was beyond all my masks and layers. That was a relief.

"I am sorry, Commissar. But my sleep seems to have affected my hearing. But please, I would ask for you take me to your unit. I assure you that you will not come to harm inside my domain."

I briefly considered asking Her if we could just brick the gates closed then, but I refrained from speaking such blasphemous thoughts in Her presence. And frakked if I knew what 'to brick" was in High Gothic.

"yes… Highness yours. Obey I… like." I activated my com bead and accessed the Vox net.

Static greeted me. I cursed; purely in my mind of course, never would I utter such words in the vicinity of such a pure being as Her. At least I thought so back then.

I switched to the frequencies and found out that everything about squad level was not working right now. Either the Machine Spirit disliked my roughhousing of it, or the rock between the surface and us disturbed the connection. But my old hiver instincts told me we were not 'that' far underground.

While I was contemplating on how to contact HQ, Her Royal Highness had turned towards my men, Her cheeks coloured a faint rosy tone, not from anger I could tell. Yet, what else might She feel, greeted by the sight of a few scrawny, dirty soldiers bowing and groveling before Her in supplication? And how could I ever attempt to figure out the feelings of a being so far above me as Her? It was literally like trying to figure out the Moon.

"I feel honoured, I really do… but please, stop that." Her cheeks coloured even more.

"There are more important things to do, and I believe each of you is a great soldier in his own right."

Would I be what people believed me to be, my heart would have burst in my chest under this praise. But since I am a coward and merely content to survive, and most certainly not any great hero, I merely felt a chill running through me as I heard the words. Of course, I was the only one to get Her meaning.

"Get up, men! The Lady Senshi wishes to get out of this place and join up with the rest of the troops. And by the Emperor, we will make it so."

Suddenly the Chosen One was rushing, and I instantly jumped up to battle instincts again.

But She was merely bending over my unconcious aide, Jurgen, and kneeled down next to him. Her hands reaching out and touching him. Somehow, I was not sure if Jurgen was now blessed by Her touch or if She was tainted by contact to him. You have to understand… Jurgen is not really the purest of beings… or cleanest. But at least he was still sealed inside his envirosuit. That should reduce the possible contamination. A bit.

"He is still alive. And he does not have any wounds. What happened to him?"

I believed to hear real concern in Her words. Truly, the Anima of the Imperium, His Senshi, cared for every being in the Imperium of Man, each and every little Man was worth of their attention. But to be concerned? For a common soldier? I probably should not have tried to connect merely human emotions to the Goddess.

"He fell. Suddenly. Non sleep?"

"Yes, that is no sleep. He… ohh. Is he a psyker, perhaps? Or does he have a high amount of psychic talent?"

I looked dumbly at Her. That wasn't entirely the case, Jurgen was a null. Psykers and warp creatures reacted strongly to his presence. In extreme cases I had seen Psykers losing conciousness by approaching him.

"I am sorry; that was very careless off me." She rested Her hands on his chest and head, giving him Her blessed touch, and truly; Her hands began to glow with Holy Might as She gifted Jurgen.

I was not surprised as Jurgen opened his eye's and tried to stand up.

What surprised me was how She guided him gently to his feet, rising with him, and then bowing again.

"Again, I am very sorry. I will ensure that does not happen again."

Jurgen stared back at her, face and eyes empty without any understanding. He was indeed healed and back to his regular, vague self. I was temporarily at a loss for words, so I fell back into old habits and mustered our troops.

Well, all six of us that hard survived, apart from Her Divinity. Sergeant Jerrod had lost all but three of his men, Jurgen and myself being the only others still standing.

While the guardsmen had at least picked up their weapons again and attempted to spread out, their professionalism was still severly broken. I felt for them, it wasn't any different for me. But something needed to be done.

"Atten-hut! Listen up. We are deep in enemy territority and we are the only thing to stand between a Daughter of the Emperor and the enemy. You will give your life if its asked for. For Her safety you will strive and you will do your best to keep Her unharmed! Anything less and I will have you flogged, shot and then plead to His Divine Majesty to bring you back to life so that I can shoot you again! Is that understood?"

The men snapped to attention, focusing on their surroundings again and bellowed out a strong. "Sir, yes, Sir!"

I smiled under my mask. It may not be my strongest suit, but by the Emperor, I could play the fierce Commissar when I had to. "Move out! Jerrod takes point, escort formation."

I was briefly disturbed to see Her flinch at our raised voices. On a human face, I might have described her look as wonder as the men fell in place around her. Me next to her, Las pistol and Chain Sword recovered and drawn. No doubt she was used to being escorted by the Adeptus Astartes, maybe even the Custodes themselves and was astonished about the inaquedacy of our escort. I would apologize and grovel later, first, we had to get back to our lines.

She fell easily in step with us, and I forced my attention off of Her. I had a duty to fulfill.

That was actually one of the few times in my career that I truly considered the importance of someone's else continued safety and well-being to be above mine. It was a strange feeling.

We passed through dark and empty halls, ready to take on a Waagh, with an Ork Warboss riding a Squiggoth and swinging around a looted Volcano Cannon.

Carefully, we stalked through the abandoned corridors, two of the remaining soldiers taking point, covering every shadow, every nook, every piece of rubble with their Lasguns, fingers only a hair's breadth away from unleashing a powerful blast of death and senses stretched to the outmost. The others covered our back, wary of any sneak attacks or ambushes while I walked close to the Holy Anima. Always having the next spot of cover picked out, ready to tackle Her bodily and dive behind it on the first sound or sign of trouble.

The flickering light, sparkling apparatuses and crackling noises of excess heat from one source or the other did not help calm our strained nerves at all. Half an army of Orks could cover their approach with that. And even with the occasional rubble or other damage the long, fairly wide corridors did over only very little cover, making them effective killing zones in any fight. An encounter with any more Orks could easily prove fatal for all of us, and only quick and decisive action would hold any chance of survival for us.

"How strange… all this damage. Father must have waited for a long time before waking me; was He disappointed?" As She eyed the cave-ins and maintenance failures in Her resting place, Her voice was small, apprehensive. How does one comfort the closest thing to a living goddess one would ever meet? I was wrong about that, as I should find out much later; but that's not for now.

I felt even more powerless, considering I could barely speak Her language.

"Not worry… fine. You safe. We bring back."

I wanted to cringe at the crude reply I managed, but I was busy keeping my eyes on our surroundings. The barely veiled lie did not even bother me. Sometimes, it was practically my duty to be liberal with the truth. You can even read it up, it's in the Commissarial Manual, although worded a bit different and possibly aiming at quite different situations or morale problems. Luckily, my bluff was not called. We did not encounter any Orks on the way out, but even outside, the tension did not leave my body.

Luckily, that was not necessary. We did not encounter any Orks on the way out, but the tension did not leave my body.

When we reached gap in the hill, I send out Jerrod and one of his men, holding the rest to stay back and in cover while I stepped out and accessed the Vox net.

I switched directly to regimental command level, listening for a second to get a grasp of how desperate the situation was.

"No… Colonel Radev. No, you can't do that, that's against all Imperial regulations…"

"Don't worry, Colonel Kasteen. My collageaue has… experience, in that kind of assault."

I heard a very painful sound over the com line. A metallic screaming, as if something massive was being torn apart, overlapped with the thundering of some truly expressive guns and the roaring of engines.

Well, our lines should be still holding and Kasteen had sounded upset, not in full blown panic.

"This is Commissar Cain. I order an armored transport and a nobility level escort to my position immediately. This is an Commissarial Order."

"Cain? What do you mean; what happened out there?" The bafflement in Kasteen's voice was palpable. I admit, that request was strange, even for my standards.

"I'll explain later, Colonel. For now, send me that convoy." We had been in enough tight spots together that the Colonel would trust my judgement without questioning.

The calm voice from before spoke up again.

"The 501st is on route to your position, Commissar. I expect you to have a good explanation for your request once you get here."

"By the Emeror….that I have, that I have…"


	6. Chapter 5

**Hades VI, Field Command**

Emperor be thanked our ride was quite uneventful, and considering the circumstances I could not maintain my usual scepticism that He had other things to do than to look in my direction. And that was a scary thought.

It hardly surprised me anymore that the PDF sent a couple of vaguely like Razorback variants looking vehicles manned with Stormtroopers in heavy carapace armour and wielding some kind of Hellguns to escort us.

Their reaction to our 'guest' had been no different than expected, either. Stunned awe, religious ecstasy and sheer worship. Again, the Anima had not seemed very interested in it, but quickly manned one of the 'Razorback' and mumbled some words about duty, protection and carrots. I am not sure about the last. Maybe it was cabbage.

Considering the circumstances, I had little choice but to enter the same vehicle as Her.

The seat designed to hold a sturdy soldier in big carapace armour did not really do Her justice and I had to use every ounce of mental discipline I had to remember Her Divinity and status at the top of Humanity while She sat there, Her weapon drapped over Her knees and running Her fingers idly along it. On another being, I might have called it nervous.

How does one make small talk with a living relative of the Emperor of Mankind?

Does one make small talk? Was 'So, how was your last smiting?' an appropiate dialogue opener?

The rhino was not as fast as I was used to from other rhinos, and the ride took longer than eternity. Well, maybe closer to a quarter of a standard hour, but considering the presence I was in…

Emperor be dam… I meant frak. What was I going to tell Amberley?

'Guess whom I met last time? Funny story that…'

And was Amberley going to confiscate Jurgen as an Holy Relique, now that he had been 'touched' by Her?... Who was going to commandeer my tanna leaf tea now, and several other items that were crucial for regimental morale?

These, and several other less relevant thoughts ran through my head while we made our way to Field Command.

When we arrieved at the Field Command I quickly jumped out of our vehicle and came to parade attention next to it, waiting for our Royal Passenger to depart from the vehicle so inadequat for Her.

She deigned to take a few moments longer before She stepped out, giving me time to adjust to the surroundings.

Obviously, the Orks had hid the Field Command hard and scores of green skin lay dead across the field. But that was not what astonished me. Well, aside from the fact that the PDF hadn't broken under the stress of Ork melee. But I had a faint suspicion that had to do with the Emperor be dam…praised Baneblade that was dominating the field. And the near dozen of other heavy tanks I saw positioned around it. Had the Departum Munitiorum dropped an armoured regiment to support us? But no… as hard as it was to swallow, the tanks and even the Baneblade were manned by PDF men. A Baneblade. In the PDF.

That was like… giving the master crafted force weapon of a Chief Librarian to a pre schola juvie hive ganger.

I squinted. Well, that was no Baneblade configuration I was familiar with. But I had never been an expert for the really heavy tanks, nice as they might be. I did not see the wisdom in making me an even bigger target.

Around me, the 501st formed a guard of honour and I saw the confusion in Kasteen's and Broklaw's face. In the field, such honours were only reserved for the highest dignitaries. But by the Princess's Mercy! Had there ever been a more deserving Being?

The senior PDF officers had also stepped out in the open, I guess Kasteen must have told them how out of character my transmission had been. I was actually lucky that they didn't greet me with a Bolter and detainment till an Inquisitor checked my innards for Chaos contamination.

The whole atmosphere in the camp changed, when Her Divine Presence stepped forth. She had discarded Her glaive, and stood before us. Not without pride I recognized the whole field, personel of three combined regiments dropping to their knees in perfect unison. And this time, I followed. Basking in Her Glory, my soul drinking in the Hope and Warmth She promised and granted.

I am an old cynic. I have seen wars, survived situations like few others in the Imperium of Man. I have overcome enemies, killed things, run away screaming from situations that had obliterated many others. But I am not ashamed to admit that then, in that moment, I would not have been able to speak without choking up.

I saw two of the regimental priests dropping down without any ceremony, fainting.

Such was Her Majesty, such was our desperation, our reverence.

The Imperium of Man still lived!

There was still hope!

We would not go quietly into the eternal night!

His Divine Offpspring lived!

She walked among us mortals!

The Moon gently guided us!

Salvation!

"I… please stand up. I am glad to be her, with you, but please; do not trouble yourself too much….." Her voice drowned out, but we were still too overwhelmed to react, to move. How could mere men stand in the presence of the Divine?

Her voice carried far and strong over the field, quiet, but every single being in the camp could hear Her clear as day. Her Strength, Her Power, Her Mercy.

"I am the Senshi of Saturn. Guardian of the Firstborn Daughter. Princess of the Imperium of Man. Mistress of Loyality. Maiden of Devotion. The Serving One. Bringer Of Silence."

Senshi Saturn… She truly was ancient beyond measure…

"I feel honoured, to be here with you. And I promise, I will serve proudly with you. Together. For Humanity. We stand. And we give."

The words moved my core. They were so different from what I expected. The fiery glory of battle and struggle… they were missing. Instead, I felt… connected. More than Ciaphas Cain, Commissar… HERO OF THE IMPERIUM. I felt… like Ciaphas Cain. Human. United with my brothers and sisters. Sharing.

Sadly… the beauty of Her words were lost on the lowly troopers.

Without preamble, a towering form rose. The black armoured, gargantuan form of Colonel Radev stood. Towering above Her, above all in the field. A form, larger than any Ork we had encountered today in the field.

And he spoke. With a thundering, booming voice. Raspy breathing interrupting, but he was not deterred as he translated word for word. Stepping forward, he drew blank his deadly Power Sword. Dropping to his knees, he placed it at Her feet, crouching, to keep his head below Her's and proclaimed in perfect High Gothic:

"I, Lord Hardt Radev, Lord of the HITS, Colonel of the First Cerberus Knights, Protectors of the Gates to the Underworld, hereby swear eternal allegiance and servitude to Princess Saturn, Anima of the Imperium."

The grey clad PDF colonel followed with a very similar procclamation, not a heartbeat later. In perfect High Gothic too, of course… could everyone except me on this absurd planet speak High Gothic? More and more procclamations rose from the assorted troops in the Low Gothic I could at least understand well.

Dozens of voices cried out their loyalty, their servitude, but when the Anima raised her hand everyone quited down in a heartbeat.

"Mah, mah everyone… I feel honoured. Believe me, I am moved beyond mere words… But above all, we follow my Father on Terra, and Serenity, his Firstborne Daughter, for they alone guide us with their light. And we serve all of Humanity and ourselves, for we are Humanity."

It took several more encouraging words from His Daughter; and finally a short barked command from Lord Radev; to get us all up from the ground and back on our jobs. Said black menace took up position behind the Anime like a shadowy phantom.

We were escorted into the command bunker. The blast door had been ripped open during the battles and was still not replaced, but I noticed troopers carrying out several hacked apart Ork Nobs. I shuddered to think about Ork Nobs storming a command bunker and having to fight them close quarters. Who would be crazy enough to engage them with a melee weapon, of all things, from what I could discern of the wounds?

Lord Radev grumbeled, and ordered an Aide to give a short overview of the tactical situation.

Which wasn't too shabby at all.

From the sounds of it, the Ork mainforce had pressed hard against our command center, but the timely arrival of an armoured column from the Cerberus Knights and our third platoon, reinforced with elements of the second, had turned the tide. The rest of our combined forces had joined the fighting, and the Orks were not only routed, but severly decimated. It wasn't exactly only mobbing up that was left now, they still had a sizeable force and working formations. Considering them being Orks, their fighting moral was also unbroken, but the imperial forces had now an upper hand so clear that even I was reassured.

And if the news of Whom we had uncovered and now had to protect reached the rest of the troops… well, lets just say I don't think our forces would need a motivating, commissarial hand for a long, long time.

It was not a moment after I was convinced that all was fine and sorted out, that the alarms began to blaze through the control stations.

**Hades VI, orbit**

The Warpstorm flayed at the outer atmosphere of the world beneath it.

It was not a peaceful or serene world, storms raged across its surface, toxic mist covered it and there was no native life form except for the colonists, hidden behind biodomes and shelter.

But all that was nothing to the chaotic, raw power of the Warpstorm, swirveling, ever changing, struggling against itself, against the Materium, eternally moving. Multicoloured lightning in varied shapes streaked across diffuse clouds of glowing red and shadow; the noice transmitted in the atmosphere was the wailing of space and time itself as it was torn asunder by terrible forces.

It was cut even more as a horriyfing, unholy shape began to emerge from the Chaos.

Meter upon meter, mile upon mile sliced the daemonic ship through space, hurting the very fundaments of the Materium with its presence. Tentacles flailed along its hull, distorted bulbs covered its surface, pulsing, breathing, living, hating. The Rancor had come.

What had once been an proud sympol of Imperial might thousands of year ago, an Emperor Class Battleship, was now ready to crush Humanity under its might, furthering the cause of its bloodied God.

Another shape appeared over the doomed capital of Hades VI, hull in the colour of blood, weapons that had spilled the bloods of thousands. The Retaliator Class Grand Cruiser Tide of Blood loomed over the horizon, swiftly followed by the final part of the unholy trinity, its dark sister, the heavily armed Glory of Chaos. It was a scorched, scared hulk of metal, but a fully armed and operational Retaliator nonetheless.

Untold numbers of warpspawned Daemons, blood crazed cultists and traiterous Space Marines waited in the caverns of the abominable ships to pour down on the defenseless world and ravage it, create an ocean of blood and claim the skulls of any that dared to oppose them for their Master.

With slow, deliberate movement the lone, spacecapable defense cannon of the small Imperial Outpost world rotated its barrel in position.

The harnessed power of a small star burst forth from the muzzle of the KDY-150 Ionization Cannon, brighter than the sun, compactly focussed and more wide than a flight of thunderhawks, it ripped through the feeble defense of the Tide of Blood.

Powerless before the sheer might of the Cannon, the armour gave way on all sides of the ship, and not even half an heartbeat later only a quickly dissipiating cloud of ionized gas remained were once soared an abomination of terrifying might.

Desperately, the Chaos Warships ignited their engines, picking up speed and sending their answering fire down to the damned weapon of the corpse emperor that had dared to strike upon them, even while their outward weapons tore asunder the lightly armed transport of the Imperial Guard orbiting the planet.

Mighty Void Shields, snapping in place and protecting His Big Faithful Gun, swallowed the fire arcing towards the planet. The Chaos Ships were directly over the planetary surface, in lower orbit, close to the atmosphere, in the field of planetary gravitation.

Perfectly in range and unable to manoveur.

While the massive Cannon moved slow and slugish, their accelerating speeds were even slower and it locked on the Glory of Chaos.

Demons, Marines and even cultists poured out of the ship, most jumping into the atmosphere of the planet unprotected, only a few manning the drop ships or transports that launched as quickly as they could.

A second time the cannon roared, and His almigthy wrath crushed another vessel of His foes with contemptous ease.

Still, the sacrifice had bought enough time. For the crew and abominations on board the Rancor had completed their desperate gamble, just before the third bold of sheer elemental might cleaved apart their vessel. Such was His Anger, that not even the massive armour and sheer evil of the Rancor could stand up to it.

**Hades VI, Field Command**

"Sir, Orbital Command is reporting a massive spatial disruption above Hades Prime."

I looked at the Vox operator. Massive spatial disruption and alarms blarring didn't sound too good, no matter how little I knew about strange spacer words.

The grey clad Colonel whirled around.

"Get clarifcation about the specifics. Activate Ground Defense Network. Bring us to DesCon 1. Status of Primary Gun."

I had to hand it to them, it certainly looked impressive from the way they were moving around and the disciplined speed they were using.

"Ground Defense Network online."

"DesCon 1 initiated. Civilians underway and reserves are being deployed."

"Primary Gun energized and active, Colonel Soudisi."

"Phenomen not clearly specified. Collaborating data suggests significant similarities to phenomenas of the 'Warpstorm'classification."

I didn't really understand one word out of ten, but I had heard Warpstorm. The last Warpstorm that had meant anything good for me… Had never happened. Frak.

"Enemy ships entering Orbit. Orignation point 'Warpstorm' phenomen. Phenomen now designated 'Breach'."

"Confirmation of three non identified targets; designation Alpha, Beta, Gamma.

All targets correspondent with confirmed Chaos Ships. Target Alpha exhibits clear signs of demonic contamination."

"Transfer target control to Primary Gun, permission to fire at will. Inform the commander that I hereby order a 'clear sky'."

While the PDF operators bustled with even more arcane activity as the Colonel calmly gave out orders that went completely over my head, I turned to one of the local lieutenants that seemed to be standing around, without doing much.

"Son; what, in the name of the Emperor's Go…Graces, is going on here?"

That had been a close one. The Anima was standing only mere steps away from me, and had an interested expression on her face, turned towards the vox operators.

Shortly after that, I wished I hadn't asked. A daemon possesed Chaos battleship? Two heavy cruisers? No friendly fleet presence in the system? Frak, whom did they think they where attacking? Cadia?

"….Void Shields? You have defensive Void Shields?"

"Only for our planetary defense system. Enemy fire density is within acceptable margins for short term exposure."

Well, a short time later I did knew that the most scary and strange thing on this planet still was the Anima. But enough fire power to take out three heavy Chaos Ships?

"Let me get this straight. You can blast three Chaos Ships out of the sky, but can't deal with a mangled Ork Ship?"

I wasn't used to that kind of look from a lieutenant. And it wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Approach vectors, Sir. We only have a single sufficent gun. The Orks approached from behind the planetary curvature. The Chaos Ships took a ... more daring approach."

I knew I had not the best grasp of space travel, or naval combat. To be honest, I had not even the faintest idea. But was that a reason for the lieutenant to rub it in that much?

"Reserve forces and local civilian authorities report enemy troops on the ground all over Hades Prime."

Now that's my language.

"What kind of forces are we dealing with? Chaos Marines with Daemon support, or just run of the mill cultists? Did they manage to land a full ground detachment?" I addressed the Vox Operator.

"Unknown at this point. Scattered reports are coming in, local forces are being overwhelmed. It seems to indicate a substantial Incursion."

That somehow didn't sound as if it was just a couple of single Chaos Cultists who would be quickly contained…

Barely audibly above the command chatter in the bunker I heard a sigh.

The Anima had actually let her head drop and spoke softly.

"They are back…this time…this time, I can not fail." There was pure Adamantium in Her voice at the end.

Kasteen looked unsure at the Senshi, clearly trying to decide if she was allowed to address a being of Her status.

Broklaw gave me a pointed look. I considered just staring back, I could be pretty good at this games if I wanted to. But I relented, and actually stepped close to the Anima.

Emperor be da…da best, I still had no idea how to really address Her. Or the ability to put it in words.

"Excuse… Anima. You said.. time, again? You mean?"

She looked up to me, Her eyes… there was so much sadness in them. What must She have done, what must She have seen to feel so much sadness for Humanity?

"I… when Father send me here; to Hades V. I… failed. It was a simple assignment. Michiru had discovered a contamination in the colony, by an extramateriell force. The poor soul called himself Sethoralesh when we learned of it. But I got there to late. There were already others. Servants, and so many had already fallen, becoming twisted.

I tried to fight them… but they were too many. Rows upon rows of them. I… in the end, as Sethoralesh had already almost escaped I had no choice. I silenced Hades V."

I am not entirely sure I had heard everything alright… High Gothic could be annoying. But if I interpreted it correctly, which I was hoping I didn't, it meant… I winced. It was bad enough calling a powerful Daemon by its name, even if it was quite certainly not a true name.

"Mistress Saturn; please forgive me this intrusion, but … Sethoralesh… it was a Daemon of the Warp?" The grey PDF colonel questioned.

Minutely, the Anima shook her head. "No; not in the beginning. It was a human, before… Herres Darl. But he had been changed beyond everything. When I arrived, yes.. he was a Daemon."

"And this happened on Hades V? There are no remains of Imperial Settlements on the world."

The formal voice asked.

"I…silenced the world. Five hundred twenty three million, eight hundred ninty two thousand and four hundred one persons, or what had been persons scant months before, died that moment. I did feel them."

With a dry mouth I asked. I didn't want to ask, but I needed to know.

"Silencing… revered Senshi, silencing meaning does?"

The girl turned slightly away from me, her arms slung around her torso.

"That… is my gift. My curse. I am the bringer of Silence. Nothing lives there anymore; nothing remains there; nothing will live there again."

Silence ruled the room. Even the Vox chatter had died down.

"I am sorry; I promised Father to not do it again. He said He would call for me, when He had decided about it."

Emperor's bowels. My mind was reeling. Silencing. A world. But what she had said afterwards…

"*hiss* So it would be accurate *hiss* to assume that said *hiss* creature has returned again?*hiss* And we need to slay it?*hiss*"

Startled, the girl looked up. And up. And up, till she looked at Lord Radev's faceplate.

"Oh, no…" She lightly shook her head. "No, I silenced Sethoralesh. These creatures… they must be others…allies, maybe."

I was no expert in Daemonology and frankly, I had no desire at all to become one, but still. During a long career fighting the enemies of the Imperium one picked up a thing or two.

"When this happen? After long time… Daemon again emerge from warp, yes, even killed Daemons."

The young woman scrunced up her nose.

"It was May, the tweenty third. M30.912. And no, Sethoralesh will not return. He is silent now."

I needed a drink. And a chair. And a heart transplant.

That had been before the Horus Heresy… and the Anima had struck down a Daemon. Without a way for it to return from the warp.

We all needed a break after that, but of course, Chaos did not give us one.

Reports came in, and we had to plan a campaign. We did not even have the ability to retreat from the planet since our transport ship had been shot down. Besides, it would have never been able to carry three full regiments, not to mention all of the civilians.

Apparently, the Chaos Ships had managed to land a sizeable force of Cultists via some transporters and had teleported several Traitor Marines on the surface. But what was even worse… there were Daemons. A lot of Daemons. Big ones, too.

From the number estimates, it was looking really grim even if we considered that our both PDF regiments were quite overstrength and had a very decent equipment.

The strategic session was hold mostly in low gothic, and the Anima was left to look on, She had said that She was no military commander, and trusted the commanders of Her personal guard. After that little shock, we had needed a bit of time to get the meeting back on track but we had finally formulated a strategy.

It was decided that it was in no way acceptable for soldiers of the Imperium to let the civilians of Hades Prime fend for themselves. So we would make a push for the city. The Daemon infested, chaos ridden city. I don't exactly remember why I didn't try to play the big, bad Commissar card and order our troops to stay put in the wildnis and call for reinforcements under the threat of summary executions.

I suppose, I must have had my reasons at that time.

The first step of the plan was a two pronged push. The fast third company of the Cerberus Knights would secure a vital pass towards Hades prime with a spearhead assault which we needed to develop an axis of attack and supply our troops from the field depots. They had to hold out against a possible counter push of Chaos forces till the rest of the Cerberus Knights and our 597th Valhallans caught up. I wouldn't want to be in the third company, but Colonel Radev had assured us that his troops were 'properly' motivated.

The Tartaros Guards would divulge from our main force, and secure the old PDF barracks as a future base of operations and to join forces with their heavy equipment. It had been kept in reserve, partly due to the bad terrain out here. Acting Planetary Channellor Soudisi would lead them personally.

I had managed to slip myself in as a liason contact to the Tartaros Guard, explaining the vital importance of securing the heavy equipment for a city assault versus Chaos Forces, no matter how much I might regret not being able to lead the attack of the 3rd company. I had even managed to say that without laughing.

Actually, I was looking forward to secure my future quarters in the PDF barracks and stay away from any Chaos Counterattacks. I was not so sure about the Anima accompaning us, but she would be kept far away from the fighting at all cost. So I decided I had to stay close to her. As a last line of defense. You understand.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hades VI, Hades Prime**

Golan raged. Golan howled out in anger. Golan cut the Cultist in front of him apart with his Lightning Claws. Blood splattered, chunks of unworthy flesh rained down. Golan called out to his God, to deliver him to worthy opponents.

And so it was.

The power of Rage, of Murder and Violence took him. Delivered him from the Glory of Chaos. It threw him unto smooth rockrete. Golans nose bloodied. His skull cracked the ground. Humans screamed. Humans died. He rose up again, the howls of the despaired around him. It was like music. Golan roared and shook his mane of dark hair. What use did one as him have for helmets? Already his nose had healed.

With a feral growl Golan jumped at one of the fleeing bystanders. The weak fool was crushed alone by the might of his jump. The weight of his massive Power Armour grinding him to mush. Golan roared a challenge. Was there none worthy foe? No challenge?

Only fleeing prey. Fodder. Crying woman. Despairing children.

Bullets sprayed against his back. Weak, pathetic things. Using simple guns. Golan whirled around. His lightning claws raised. A man stood not 30 feet away. With contemptuous ease, Golan took two steps and jumped. The weakling fired his stubber again.

And failed. Two bullets missed completely and the third took Golan between his eyes. Smashing his skin and shattering against his skull. Parts of broken bodies rained down between the combatants.

The Chosen of Khorne ripped the worm apart with his Lightning Claws. Not even bothering to use the energy field. Just rip and tear flesh, bones and muscles.

A shot thundered. Something smashed hard against his armour.

An Adeptus Arbites. Raising his shotgun again. Golan laughed. A head flew through the air. Eyes open in terror. Mouth gaping in agony. He opened his arms and welcomed the pathetic being. The Adeptus fired. Unerringly smashing the face of the Traitor Marine with pellets.

Golan raced forward again. Stomping on a random leg in his way. Smashing it without noticing it. He crouched. His massive frame tackled the Adeptus. With force like an almighty hammer they crashed against a wall. Wall and Carapace armour cracked. The broken body of the Arbites fell to the ground.

Defiantly, he raised his shotgun once more. Aiming again at the unmarred face of the Heretic. A child's arm hit Golan on his shoulder. The child died meters away. Great gushes of blood spewing out of its shoulder. Golan stomped down, hard. Smashing bones in the hand of his enemy. Letting the flesh explode outside.

The Adeptus screamed. The Adeptus cried out in agony. Golan had put his claw deep in his stomach. Shredding armour. Then, he activated the lightning field.

The body exploded in gore.

Golan roared his challenge. Death was around him, broken bodies, mauled human remains littered the street, the ground coated red in the blood of a whole city.

Was there no one on this world to challenge him? No one worthy to take his skull and offer it to his God?

A vision struck him. A face. A girl. Weak, fragile. A golden tiara. A man. Old, cowardly. A large hat. Golan would strike them down and spill their blood. Golan roared, flexing his Lightning Claws.

*Snikt*

A massive eruption of eldritch warp energy ravaged the street.

Figures materialized. His Master. Dozens of misshapen beings. Hundreds of the bloodiest, most gruesome warriors in the galaxy. Great wings unfolded and a massive axe clove the street apart

**Hades VI, forward detachment of the local PDF**

"Men! We stand before the Enemy of the Imperium. Before the Enemy of Him and His Daughter. We will not falter. We will not fall back. We will not fail. We will bathe them in the Holy Fires of His Wrath. We will spear them with the Light of His Wisdom. We will annihilate them with the Power of His Might. Jupiter be with us! We are the Thunder! We are the Lightning! We are Hades!" Captain Neodalis called out, his powerful voice carrying loud and clear along the pass.

The third company was in position. Hastily erected makeshift cover protected Las Cannon emplacements. Autocannon and Mortar teams were dug in. A tightly packed line of soldiers was layered against the ground, plasma weapons distributed amongst several of them.

Grenade launcher were waiting behind the line, several Razorback M's were ready and prepared. Reserves positioned, secondary and tertiary points fortified. Charges placed.

His troops roared in answer and proudly he turned around.

An enemy envoy was approaching their lines and Captain Neodalis strode out to meet him before the lines. Not unlike the practices of other savages the Imperium had freed and enlightened in the galaxy during past ages. The envy was striding up the steep hill with long, powerful steps.

It was a hideous thing, clad in the desecrated and marred armour of one of the Emperor's Finest. It towered far above him, nearly half a man's length more. Carrying a massive axe, and the remains of a Bolter but marred with Ruin. He shook with rage. How dared these infidel's to defile that which was holy? In the name of Princess and Emperor, he would not allow it.

With a powerful, deep voice the giant spoke.

"Soldier… give in to Chaos. You stand no chance… embrace Chaos, for it is Power. Power to do as you wish, to take revenge on those who wronged you and to take what you desire. Power free for the taking, if you are strong enough."

Barely containing his rage, Neodalis shouted his answer.

"Heresy! Vile lies and blasphemy. We will not be defiled by your words. You will die here, your body destroyed in Her name!"

"Fool! How dare you. You can not stand before our might. A thousand horrors of the warp descend upon you. Our Bolts blot out the sun." Rearing up, the fallen Marine towered far above the human soldier, sneering down upon him.

"Then we will fight in the shade!" He spat his defiance in the face of the foul traitor.

"This is madness." Incredulously, the Agent of Chaos bellowed out his disbelief.

"THIS! IS! HADES!"

Without drawing, he fired his Plasma Pistol through its holster. The blast smashed through one armoured leg of the figure, exploding on the backside, destroying the leg. When the towering giant fell, Neodalis kicked him against the chest, letting the cursing body tumble down a ravine.

He turned around to his men.

"Men of Hades. Tonight, we will dine in Hell!"

The roars rising up could nearly be heard by the advancing enemy horde, more than two klicks away.

"For Saturn!"

This time, the roar could be heard by the assorted Daemons, Chaos Space Marines and Cultists. Even the ones inside the Predator tanks.

John Barmo aimed through the sight of his stationary Autocannon. The enemy was closing in fast to effective range, Infantry swarmed out in front of the vehicles and heavy Power Armour. Almost as if they were used as human shields.

Enemy Artillery opened fire, rockets and grenades streaking towards the line of the Cerberus Knights. Their few Anti-Projectile Lasers did shoot down a fair amount, but were overwhelmed, and shells landed amidst their lines.

But the enemy charged on, not satisfied with laying waste to them via long range fire.

John couldn't have welcomed it more and opened fire with his weapon. Against the barely armoured or even completely unarmoured waves of infantry, each hit in centre mass blew up the whole body, throwing smouldering chunks of cooked flesh for a dozen meters. But uncaring, they charged on. John seriously considered the thought that they were just stupid. Grenade launchers and mortars fired with dull thuds behind him, and Las Cannons fired upon vehicles.

The first foot soldiers reached the mine field now. That stopped them nicely.

Their return fire was brutal. The enemy vehicles brought more firepower to bear than the whole of the defenders, and several of the power armour pilots were using rocket launchers. Except for the ones with the axes.

John pushed the empty shell container aside, even as Ford loaded another one in the Autocannon. Still, the PDF had the height advantage and was as well entrenched as was possible in the short time they had had to prepare.

Grenades and massive Las blasts from the Chaos forces smashed in rockrete, ordinary earth and often touched a soldier or some equipment. John heard the screams and moans of the dying around him.

A tank detonated, its crusted hull, covered in spikes and bones, coming apart under multiple Las hits. Power Armours were flung to the ground, a hole in the enemy formation opened only to be filled by another tank.

"Aerial Assault; initiate AA fire."

A drove of Power Armour descended upon them, wailing Chain Weapons in their hands. John rolled around, raising his Las pistol and firing half a dozen shots at the nearest aerial behemoth. They smashed against his optical sensors, blinding him but the armour did hold. Still, it was not helping his landing.

John manned his Autocannon again, pouring out hot, metal, explosive death to any who charged. The heavier enemy weapons had blasted the ground, mostly clearing the minefield, and detonating the buried surprise charges way beforehand. The infantry charged again.

"Reserves, to first line. First line, fallback pattern Beta."

John concentrated his fire on a walking colossus, a Dreadnaught decorated with gruesome visages and firing out of an Assault Cannon even while it smashed its own infantry beneath its mighty feet.

The first enemy Infantry reached their line now, severely thinned by the heavy fire, but supported by the aerial troopers. Uncoordinated melee broke out in some places. John swivelled his Cannon around faster than any manufacturer would believe and fired three shots in a group. Taking of the head of a Power Armour, blowing one infantry man to pieces and missing the third.

Ford got hit by a bolter round, his shoulder exploding all over him. John raised to a crouch, grabbed his Las gun and ran over to his fallback point, covered by the reserve team close to his position.

Behind cover, he turned back and fired, taking out the unarmoured enemies quickly.

The reserve teams were falling back now, too and the heavier enemy elements reached the almost empty first line. The desecrated Colossus still walking on.

"Razorbacks, fallout!" With roaring engines, the Razorbacks surged forward, their heavy bolters making short work of the first enemies, the upped armour of the M-Variant taking a shoulder fired missile or two. Driving deep into the enemy lines, the got swarmed quickly, and hulking giants with power claws ripped open their armour.

That was when the Prometheum canisters loaded into their troop compartments detonated.

The resulting ocean of flame took out huge chunks of the enemy forces, burning flesh and bone to cinder and reducing armour to molten slack.

Still, the enemy force was sufficient and pressed on. The assault gun of the Colossus mowed down a guy from a different squad, Ringo something or the other.

'Okay, now more nice guy. You are going down now.'

John grabbed one of the devices before him, adjusted his headband and rolled himself forward, pressing flat against the ground behind the remains of a fortification. The earth shook under detonations, tremors and the steps of things just too heavy to be reasonable. Without his headgear, John would probably be deaf already, but he wasn't particularly interested in that. He could see how hard pressed their lines were now, in melee, overwhelmed by sheer numbers and the toughness of enemy Power Armour. Guardsmen cut down without a chance in close combat.

A shadow fell over him, and with a looming step, the Dreadnaught stepped over the barricade.

John jumped up behind him, slapped the Melta Bomb on its back and lounged to the side.

For the span of a second, a miniature sun shone its light on this part of the battlefield, and the wreckage of the dreadnaught crashed on its front, blackened and twisted.

'And stay down. Sucker.'

Only instincts as sharp as any jungle fighter saved John. He spun sideways, narrowly escaping an enormous axe, teeth roaring along its edge.

He had already aimed his Las Pistol and bathed the armoured giant in Las fire.

It was a bulky armour, far more so than the other Power Armours, and looked massive enough to stop anti tank shells. John could attest to the fact that it could, in fact, stop Las Pistol shots.

Another swing, which he narrowly escaped, now trapped between some wreckage. He pulled out his combat knife and crouched.

The giant did not hesitate for a second, but roared insulted and dashed forward, far too fast for something that big.

John grunted as the massive head of the thing crashed against his chest, driving the air out of his lungs and letting him stumble. He pushed the head aside and looked up to the figure in black, Power Blade still humming. But Lord Radev had already turned around and was engaging the next enemies.

The Plasma Cannon of the Executor fired, and obliterated the ugliest of the enemy tanks, while the Leman Russ cut down enemy infantry.

**Hades VI, Hades Prime**

He rolled his massive shoulders, his trusty weapon gripped in his hand. It alone had spilled the blood of thousands, nay… more. He felt the glorious lure of battle in the distance as his forces clashed against the pitiful human resistance on this world.

His pathetic, lesser brethren were about to swarm over the cattle trying to reach their fortress.

There was no hope for them. This ball of dirt, with barely any slaughter to be had, would never have been worth his attention.

Except… for her. And that weak little fool that had spurned Chaos far too many times, making a mockery of all what Khorne stood for.

He would crush them all, rip them apart and lay their skulls down at the throne of his Lord.

Barely could he contain his excitement, his lust for carnage.

But he would have to. When the armies were in place, clustered, massed… where he could descend unto them like a nightmare of violence, death and destruction he would be free to bathe once more in the blood and terror of his foes.

And he hoped…

Maybe she would grow stronger if he granted her time. So soon after her sleep, she had to be weak. No worthy foe for Him. Khorne, she would not be a worthy foe no matter what, but maybe she could grow strong enough to put up a futile struggle against His might.

He uncoiled his whip and leered at the thought. He thirsted…

**Hades VI, Outskirts of the PDF barracks**

Okay, scratch that. Barracks didn't do it justice. The fortress was a massive building, six sides of several stories high walls, three massive gun turrets crowning it, with an assortment of smaller guns, cannons, missile launchers, mortars and probably the one or other catapult thrown in for good measure. You get the picture.

I had seen more impressive fortress's in my carrier. I had visited Terra before.

The whole thing was looming on a stretched hill, but that was not the destination of our convey for now. We passed it by several miles. Our destination was the heavy equipment depot of the Tartaros Guards, to man the vehicles there and get them in shape.

Massive rumbling sounds and the clatter of plasteel on plasteel followed us. To my dismay,

I was riding close to the front of our formation. A quite impressive column of Chimera's, Rhino's and battle tanks. I hadn't looked too closely at most of the patterns, but then, with my latest suspicions I was pretty sure I would not recognize many of them anyways.

I hadn't been able to dodge the Bolt round to ride in the front instead of the middle of the line, because I had foolishly mentioned sticking close to the Anima. And of course, no one seriously considered that She should not ride in the biggest, shiniest mammoth target we could find.

So we were both here, together with Colonel Soudisi in his command vehicle, which vaguely resembled a Stormlord. While I couldn't bring Jurgen with me, the PDF had actually managed to squeeze two other soldiers inside. Wearing their red capes and even now their breather masks. Judging from their stature they had been missed by the last Astartes recruiter.

"What is the status of the preparations, Artisan Kemesill?"

"All preparations work within acceptable parameters, Lord Soudisi. The difficulties of the exhaust shaft have been removed." The Adeptus Mechanicus sounded less like a mechanical machine then most I had encountered. But no less unnatural, more like…slimy.

"Excellent. Everything is going as planned."

I didn't know why, but somehow, the gaunt, unassuming Colonel with the silver hair and his grey uniform made me feel uneasy. I have never been able to get over it.

I had meet Inquisitor's who were less creepy. Mostly because they were loud, raving lunatics; easy to avoid. The Colonel… when you looked at him he was a quite, dignified officer in His service. When you looked at him from the corner of your eyes, it didn't change at all. But my feelings were not at ease. Not at all.

Of course, that could have been mostly due to the revered Senshi, sitting between the two enormous guards. Even if she was now looking lost, forlorn and very, very small. If she would have been an ordinary human I would have estimated her age to be around sixteen, give or take a year. But she was not. She was a Divine being, His offspring and worthy of our awe. Her Divine Might was a shining light for Humanity, to gather around and be comforted in Her presence.

Her glaive was missing, again, I had not seen where she had left it.

"Sir, the third company is heavily engaged by Chaos forces. Reports confirm a mixed arms operation of at least battalion strength."

Ouch. I hoped they could hold the ground against the enemy superiority. Maybe if the Chaos troops fielded only few main battle tanks and a limited number of Traitor Marines. Even for regular Guard Units it was daring to stand in the direct face of a Chaos charge.

"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen."

You begin to understand why said Colonel was creeping even me out, a veteran of dozen of campaigns?

"Contact!" Someone yelled inside our tank, and my eyes snapped to the hololith showing us the outside via some kind of clever pict-recorder. I quickly wished to look away again, but knew from personal experience that never worked.

An army out of a nightmare was charging at us, dozens of blood soaked, naked Daemons wielding fearsome Hellblades raced towards us in a perfect wedge formation. Packs of canine terrors were at their flanks, crimson Flesh Hounds, being to an attack dog what a Bolter was to a flintlock pistol. Looming behind them were giant, quad-legged monstrosities, showing more metal than flesh, roaring their lust for carnage so loud that I could hear it even here, inside the tank. At least I imagined it. Juggernauts of carnage, storming onto us.

"Driver, reverse gear. Vox, command the tanks to draw up a line alongside us. Infantry is to dismount in the back. Avoid melee combat."

I stared at him. If it wasn't for the personal hygiene, I would have suspected he was related to Jurgen. I later heard him order a cup of decaf in the same tone.

The Senshi had risen to her feet, standing between us, and somehow keeping her balance perfectly distributed in the rumbling and moving tank.

Heavy bolters send streams of destruction into our foes, flamers burst forth their deadly load, Autocannons and Battlecannons sang their melody of death. It wasn't enough.

The beasts, Daemons and abominations charged on, ripped apart by massed blasts. But we had no blessed bullets or bolts. Wounds that would have struck down an Ork did not bother them, explosions that would have halted a Dreadnaught were ignored and they closed in.

I saw swords carve through plasteel armour, claws ripping out turrets and maws biting down on treads, unholy strength overcoming the best Humanity could muster.

The Senshi clenched Her hand around Her Glaive, surely trembling in righteous anger. I had no doubt that She wanted to be out there, to stop the onslaught and protect our soldiers. I trembled, too. From other emotions. And I didn't want to be here in the tank, either.

The soldiers of the Tartaros Guard had dismounted now and were picking Daemons from tanks with massed Hellgun fire. Plasma burned unnatural flesh and grenades pounded on beasts, shredding their flesh and bouncing off of plasteel.

Some Daemons began to ignore the tanks and charge towards our brave men. They held their ground and kept firing.

"Your men… are certainly impressive, Colonel." Was all I managed to say. Besides wishing for my bed, somewhere far away.

"It takes a 'very' brave man to be a coward in my army, Commissar." Aside from the mouth not one muscle moved in his face. Not even when a heavy body slammed against our hull and a small bulge formed inwards.

"This…this is horrible. Colonel. We need to end this." The Anima spoke up, her hand reaching out to the hololith as if She wanted to touch the scene.

By the Emperor, what chilled me even more was the horde I spotted behind the first. A whole swarm of them, howling, screeching, slavering, descending on the vehicle depot; a group of barracks around a small hill without any defence.

A succinct nod. "I agree. Signal pattern Ragnarok, Vox."

It seemed as if my world crashed down. Emperor on Terra… Princess on the Moon…

"That is no hill…" I stammered weakly.

A sharp smirk. "Now witness the power of this fully armed and operational War Machine."

The hill burst apart…camouflage falling to the ground. A god rose from the ground.

A steel Symbol of the Imperium, its massive Hellstorm Cannon spewed a lance of cleansing death, the Plasma Annihilator wiping out a whole enemy formation and weapons to countless to mention them mowed down his foes.

Like an icon for the futility to stand against His might the beast roared, expressing its eternal wrath against the enemies of Mankind. More than half a hundred metres in height it spread destruction around it, marking its godly domain, its dominance, its absolute supremacy about everything on the field. Crowing itself to be king of the battlefield.

"Saturn Pattern Emperor Class Titan Orcus Argentum. Silver God of the Underworld."

The Colonel sounded… smug.

I was too overwhelmed to reply much as a dozen Super Heavies burst out of the barracks.

Their strength seemed almost negligible compared to the elemental manifestation of firepower that walked the earth now, slaughtering enemies with contemptuous ease.


	8. Chapter 7

**Hades VI, Imperial Garrison**

I was thankful that the inside of the fortress was not as impressive as what I had seen outside. Even I have my limits. Dull grey colours, armoured doors, lack of furniture. Finally, something familiar. I was looking forward to lie down on my bed, close my eyes and wake up from this dream to enjoy Jurgen's odour.

I passed some wall covering icons, underlayed with a now familiar symbol, finally removing any doubts about certain personal guards. Whoever in the Emperor's name had thought to file them as PDF should be shot. Repeatedly. Or at least being forced to walk alongside Jurgen after a whole day of the mercy of sterile envirosuit air. Luckily, I had soon been able to send him on an errand to acquire 'appropriate' quarters for ourselves. Secretly, I expected the equivalent of a couple of Nova Cannons.

Her Holy Highness was walking next to me. I had tried to stay a deferential step behind her, but after two attempts, and I would not dare to use the expression of puppy dog eyes describing such a Divine Being, I had given up without any words exchanged.

"Commissar. If you could do me a favour, I would like to receive more in depth information about the local situation after we all have settled down."

I had to fight the impulse to snap to attention like a Schola boy being addressed by a Lord General. It was a battle I lost.

"From course, your Highness, I make best person conduct briefing your."

I had a certain Colonel in mind for that. Let's see him keeping expressionless during that.

Well; I would come to curse my lack of High Gothic soon.

A radiant smile, like the sun breaking through the darkness answered me, touching a spot deep inside me that I had believed to be crushed a long time ago, in a place far, far away.

"Yes. I would like that very much."

My palms twitched. I ignored it. For once, I did not want to know what was about to happen.

I had never claimed to be overly clever, had I?

We stopped close to a door, freshly decorated with the Seal of Saturn, paint still wet.

"Revered Senshi, please delay for a moment." The voice sounded oddly mechanic, but at least not suffering from a breathing problem.

With routine looking movements two of our escorts stepped inside, while the other four of the previously silent red monoliths adjusted their position around us.

With a shrug, I looked down at her. I mean, with utmost reverence I spoke softly to His Daughter, briefly forgetting to speak in High Gothic.

"This shouldn't take long. I am sure they have done this before."

And I was sure they had. I had met a couple of bodyguards in my time. Nobility bodyguards, military bodyguards of fleet commanders, inquisitorial bodyguards, and assorted lunatics. Some were competent, others less. And these guys were definitely the former.

Not the best there was, at least I guessed so. After all, everyone knows about the Adeptus Custodes. But to be honest, I did not want to find out what Colonel Soudisi hat meant when he had assigned the team of 'reasonably capable personal guards' to the Senshi.

Eversor assassins and spanking came to mind, and I did not need that image.

"Area secured." One of the quartet suddenly spoke up and I took that as my sign for possible escape. Taking my leave, I mean. Sadly, my High Gothic kept me from formulating a fitting, formal parting carrying the dignity of my office.

"Bye. Me back."

I did not flee; that was not proper conduct for Commissars of the Imperial Guard. I… merely relocated myself to another position, rapidly. Very rapidly. Hopefully, said position would have ample amounts of amasec.

"Ciaphes? Want to join me and Ruput for dinner? I would like to go over the… day's events."

I knew I should have lost my combead somewhere. Claiming a Space Hulk had swallowed it or something.

"Ahh… of course, Regina. I'll be right on it. I'll need to find Jurgen first." Despite what people might think, nothing had ever happened between Colonel Kasteen and myself. Which I can't say I regret that much. Not that she isn't attractive, but redheads are not my preference.

"No need, Cain. I already managed to get a dataslate with the local information from him."

Sometimes, Major Broklaw enjoyed being efficient just a tad too much.

"Ahh, how fortunate. I will be there this instant. Keep the plates warm."

At least I was going to get some grub now. Probably a seven course dinner with more stars than visible from this planet.

"We are on level six, Quarter A-34."

If I was understanding the base outline correctly, it was actually pretty close to me.

You can take the boy out of the hive, but you can't take the hive out of the boy.

It was indeed close, and I had made my way over to the room quickly.

With a heavy sigh I lowered myself in the seat, looking in dismay at the meal in front me.

Standard Guard Ration's were probably not worse, but from the looks of it, I wasn't sure.

My long time comrades… well, lets be honest and call them friends, gave me a minute or two to settle down and compose myself. Filling my stomach with some badly needed sustenance I couldn't help but wonder. Had all that really happened in the last ten hours? Or was I going to awaken soon to find a Chaos Cultist messing with my head?

"So, Ciaphas… what do you think about…well, the situation."

Colonel Kasteen looked at me, as if for guidance. I flashed back to our first few meetings, when she had been the Colonel of a freshly merged regiment. She had looked up to me the same way back then. But since then she had become an exemplary officer of the Guard, succeeding far more than most of her peers and a veteran in her own right. Although I guessed that did not include direct, personal involvement with most Holy and ancient figures from the Imperium's most glorious past. So, she looked at me, for support and guidance.

I had the urge to turn around and find someone to do the same.

"It… there can be no doubt that it is true. You have seen Her. She…" I trailed off.

Both nodded, faint awe even on Broklaw's face.

I managed to focus, as hard as it was.

"I suggest we concentrate on the problem at hand. Even with our recent military success, the city is still firmly in the claws of Chaos and the numbers and forces of the Enemy are unknown."

The Major nodded grimly.

"Yes, we smashed a lot of cultists and even some Chaos Marines with armour support when we secured the pass. But several managed to retreat and it was certainly not their only force. There was no Warband Leader standing out."

"The numbers of Daemons we encountered here were astonishing; I am not sure we would have made it out, if not…." I couldn't go on. Well, okay. I could, but I didn't want to go on.

With trepidation, the Colonel asked "Is… it true? They have a Titan?"

Thanks, Colonel Kasteen. I nodded, still not believing the words I was speaking.

"Yes, the local PDF has an Emperor Class Titan. They keep it bunched up together with at least a dozen Baneblades, in their heavy vehicle department usually. It's just over there, you know?" I made a vague hand gesture in a random direction.

"By the Emperor…" Even Broklaw was reeling. "Who are they? An Emperor Class Titan? On a dirtball like this?"

I looked at him, not even trying to suppress a grin.

"It seems, that Segmentum Command has somehow forgotten to mention the detail that we will be deployed alongside the Royal Guard of Saturn on this campaign."

"That….explains a lot. And the Adeptus Mechanicus?" Kasteen was quick to catch up and shifting the focus on something we had an easier time of dealing with.

"I am not sure; but from what I caught out of their transmission to the PDF Colonel, they are definitely deferring to him." Maybe he threatened them with putting his Colleague on the line when they didn't jump to his every word.

Kasteen nodded. "So we do at least know whom to address. What about…"

Well, we had already touched the proverbial Titan standing in the room, why not also touch the proverbial Living Holy Icon now? Only without the proverbial. In both cases.

"It seems to me, that we need to work on our High Gothic…"

Blank looks answered me. Okay, that had not been my best comeback ever, but if I was right in my suspicions there were some things I would not touch with an Astartes sized pole regarding Her Holiness.

"I can't be sure about it, but after Her long rest, She will undoubtly have use for a liaison officer. The commanders of Her personal guard…." Words kinda failed me at this moment, as the Image of Sailor Saturn, the Senshi of Silence, wielding her Silence Glaive, on her shoulders standing miniature versions of Lord Hardt Radev and Acting Chancellor Soudisi entered my mind. Although I have no idea why Soudisi was wearing a black robe and hunched over.

Tremors of sheer wrongness and terror shook me.

Eldritch energy flared from the ground and the eight pointed star of the Great Enemy formed.

I kicked the table over, my Las Pistol had jumped in my hand without conscious thought. One of the most beautiful, nubile forms I had ever laid eyes upon flowed out of the centre. To look upon her was like looking on the forbidden fruit itself, perfect shining eyes mesmerized and seductive lips invited me as her smooth skin shimmered in the light, long bright purple hair the only thing shrouding her body and two small horns sprouting from her head.

In that moment, I was very aware that I was a man.

Without hesitation I squeezed three Las shots at her face. I cursed as they were deflected by some unseen force, for a split second creating three shimmering sparkles of energy in front of her.

Broklaw was on the floor grabbing for a weapon as if in slow motion, and Kasteen had risen from her seat, looking to her holstered weapon at the other end of the room.

I back-pedalled, not a moment too soon, as some unseen form disturbed the air in front of me, making me feel displaced air. As she tensed the muscles of her legs, I dropped down, letting my Las Pistol fall and went for my Chain Sword. Her jump carried her over me, and even in the air, she deflected two shots from Broklaw's Las pistol with an invisible force.

My assailant crashed through the door. The reinforced, military duty door. I rolled around, pulling my Chain Sword free and activating it with a move of my thumb, as we heard the wet tearing sound of flesh followed by a bellowing shout from the corridor.

"You Bi..Beast!" With a deep thunder, a Bolter was fired and screeching the Daemonette dived back through the destroyed door, bleeding from the shallow wound of a ricochet.

With a fluid movement I lunged forward and plunged my Chain Sword deep in her unprotected back, jerking it upwards and letting the rotating teeth do their work, sundering unholy flesh and bone.

"Come back here, come to D…oh... oh, Commissar."

During the dying screeches of the Daemonette and her flailing pink hair, I looked up to the massive man in the door, a Sergeant from our third platoon if I was not mistaken. Short cropped blonde hair, some kind of dark glasses on his nose. In his hand, a still smoking Bolt pistol. And I am not talking about the downsized Guards version here. It was very non standard, not to mention against regulations. I made a mental note to address that problem with him, as soon as I had contacted the next Astartes Chapter and a good sized squad or two at my back. Or in front.

The Ogryn wannabe shuffled his feet, putting the Bolt Pistol half way behind his leg and avoided looking at me. The Daemonette's corpse on my blade dissolved in foul looking smoke and vanished. I made very sure not to breath that smoke in.

"What happened, Soldier?"

"I was just walking along the damned corridor, Commissar, when this crazy bi… being jumped at Frank and something frakking ripped him apart. I… I was trying to detain the crazy cu…catastrophic Catachan for questioning. Yes Sir."

I nodded…slowly. But then my brain jumpstarted again.

"Emperor! If one Daemon was here… there could be more. Alert internal Security. Sergeant, you are with me."

"Yes, Sir. Wait, Daemon? What Daemons…Sir?"

I had already raced out of the room, not caring if the blonde hulk kept up.

If that had been an assassination plot… Other command officers and myself would not be the primary target.

As I raced down the corridor I passed the Tartaros Colonel. I imagined a smell of ozone in the air, but I passed to fast. He was holding a spoon under the nose of a NonCom.

"…And acquire a new spoon for me, this one is unsuitable for future use. Don't forget about that clean up crew, either."

I nearly ended my career, and more importantly, my life, as I rounded the corner to Her quarters. Only the excellent fire discipline of Her guards saved me that day. They were definitely on high alert as they escorted Her out of Her quarters.

"Oh, thank Serenity. I am glad that you are well."

Well, I was glad too.

All in all, we had gotten of lightly from the assassination attempts. Two troopers dead, one wounded. My meal interrupted. One Daemonette had teleported into Lord Radev's quarters.

She had nearly managed to escape to the outside of the installation.

I was more than glad to retreat to my quarters for the night. Jurgen had performed splendid as always, and beside a waiting cup of recaf, and a bottle of amasec for… medical uses… my quarters were in pristine condition. Due to some strange coincidence they were located directly next to the quarters of the Anima, but I was too tired to find a good reason to protest.

After I had changed into something more comfortable, placed my Las Pistol under my pillow and my chain sword in easy grabbing range I settled down for the night.

I pitied the poor fool who had to explain to the revered Senshi which year we currently counted or what had happened to her family and the Imperium; especially to our Divine Emperor. The events of the day had left me exhausted and sleep quickly claimed me.

Had I known what was in store for me, I would have already been up and about and fleeing from the base as quickly as my legs, and maybe an assisting Salamander, could take me.

The next morning greeted me with Jurgen's unique aroma, and I quickly poured me the strongest recaf I could manage to counter at least a bit of the smell. In all honesty, though, I doubt that you could counter it completely without the liberal use of Promethium. To distract my thoughts from my troubled dreams last night, something about a large, spherical object in space and a constricted feeling around my throat as a part of it began to light up, I pondered how exactly I was going to formulate my report of this campaign. Somehow 'Killed Orks. Found Anima. Killed Daemons. Was good.' didn't strike me as the kind of report that would go down smoothly with the Administratum or Segmentum Command.

At least writing reports was better than being out in the field, running away screaming.

Still, I had to get pretty creative to put the events in the report without getting the Inquisition to look me up. And the Administratum. And Segmentum Command. And…

Emperor's teeth. Our reports would probably end up with the Highlords of Terra themselves in the end. In a year or two, at least. The Administratorum is not exactly 'that' fast in my experience. If the reports really reached the top, and not vanished somewhere along the way.

I just hoped I was far away from all this, when someone decided what to do about the local developments. I am just a simple regimental Commissar. I had no desire to think about what might happen, how certain people or factions might react or what all this could mean for the future of the Imperium of Man. Not for the Sector. Frak, not even for the Segmentum. For the whole of the Imperium, in the Name of Him Whose Daughter Had Just Slept In The Room Next To Mine.

I poured me a generous glass of medicine, then decided against it. It 'was' in the morning.

"Commissar. The Anima sends you word, that she is ready to receive your briefing as soon as it suits you."

Jurgen… I had never questioned his loyalty. But this…I felt betrayed.

I remembered the conversations from last night. Both of them. Replaying the exact words in my mind. Considering that only Jurgen was present, I did not feel the need to suppress my groan.

"It's okay, Jurgen. It will be my honour to brief Her Highness."

I grabbed the glass of medicine and downed it in one go. I considered a second.

After settling Jurgen with some of the more routine data work, I stiffly stepped out of my quarters, only to be greeted by the stares of black visors on red helmets. Oh, yes. Neighbours.

That limited my chances to escape a certain briefing significantly. I doubted I could outrun these guys. Or their guns.

"Commissar Cain here to brief Her Highness as per Her request."

"Audience confirmed. Please Identify yourself."

They actually did held a genescan under my nose. I had slept next to them. There was exactly one door. Wasn't that taking it a bit far? Reluctantly, I pressed my thump on the pad, feeling a brief prickling sensation as it took a sample of my genes and confirmed that I was indeed Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium. At least to the public, anyway.

Finally, I was allowed entry to Her sanctified domain.

"Commissar Cain. Me happy see you."

I blinked. Either I had hit my head harder than I thought yesterday, or there was indeed an Anima of the Imperium standing before me, hands clasped together and looking up to me with adoring eyes. Clad in a long, plain black gown, wearing a simple silver necklace. Trying to speak Low Gothic and only succeeding marginally better than I did at High Gothic.

"I many things heard you of; you leave us can alone." With a wave she dismissed both of the silent guards inside the decorated ante room. They obeyed with only minimal hesitation.

Warp be damned. I was meeting someone who had slept for more than 10,000 years, knew probably nothing at all about the modern galaxy and even then I did not get a break from my over-inflated reputation? Emperor, what have I ever done to you?

"Thank you… I feel honoured to be worthy of your attention, revered Anima…"

She actually bit on her lip, took my hand and guided me over to a comfortable looking couch, with a table and some plush chairs in front of it. Her cheeks coloured slightly again and we both sat down, facing each other. I nearly panicked as she put a porcelain tea set on the table on the table and began to pour me tea. I was suddenly very glad that the guards had left; else they would probably have shot me for Heresy.

"Ahh… please, honoured Senshi, that's not…" Before I could go on anymore, a soft voice interrupted me.

"Me Hotaru….please?"

I gaped at her. What was one supposed to say to that? 'I can't, by Inquisitorial edict'?

But she was an Anima of the Imperium. I was just a meagre human. I never stood a chance.

Her lips actually started to quiver.

"You no like?"

"Oh, no, no, it's a wonderful name. I am feeling very honoured, Holy Hotaru, infact, I…"

Now she actually gave me a stern look, nose scrunched up. Emperor. Amberley would flail me alive. Or whatever the favoured most-painful-torture-to-death flavour was in the Inquisition this week. And I certainly did not want to ponder it. Seeing many things has the unfortunate side effect of giving you…ideas.

"Hotaru. Only. Hotaru…please?"

I winced. Where was a Chaos Incursion when one needed them? Oh, right….

Neighbouring city. I lowered my head in defeat.

"Of course, Hotaru…. As you wish."

She had actually used my distraction and filled both of our tea cups with a steaming fluid. What mere human could stand before her schemes?

"Sugar….uhhh…sugar liking look substance?"

I shook my head, feeling quite faint by now. I tasted the tea, hoping for something strong, but it was actually fairly mild. Not tanna leaf tea that was for sure. Not bad either, but I wasn't about to reject it anyways.

"Your man. I healed. Man fine?"

With long experience, I can say with absolute confidence that there is always something that surprises you. Some things just hit you harder than others.

"Yes, yes, Jurgen hass completely recovered and expresses his utmost and devoted thanks, rev… Hotaru."

The girl smiled charmingly to me, taking a small sip from her tea, holding the cup in small, delicate hands.

"So… please tell. What happened. Is so strange. How Serenity? How Father? All people? Everyone happy fine?"

Okay. That… was a bit hard to answer. Large, hopeful eyes looked up to me. My heart constricted as I gathered what I knew from ancient Imperial history. I would have traded all tanna tea in the Imperium for someone, anyone, else to take my place. Well, almost anyone…


	9. Chapter 8

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison**

The door clamped shut behind me with the sound of a guillotine. I dragged my feet on, passing the silent monoliths looming around me in silence. I felt …heavy. Tired.

The cold metal sheet covering a dark, gloomy cavern slid aside, and I shuffled forward.

Jurgen was gone, somewhere, and it seemed as if I was the last human in the galaxy. No, not human. More like an empty husk. I crashed down on the chair behind my desk.

Empe…damn. I felt like an old, old man. The bottle of amasec looked at me, lured me. I could hear it whisper in my mind. With a shaking hand I reached out.

And put it down hard on my dataslate.

No. No, I couldn't. There was still duty to uphold. That much I had learned in the last hour.

After an eternity I gave a heavy sigh, cleaned my face and actually looked at the data slate.

Tactical briefing, in just about… now. Joy.

With weary bones, I came to my feet; gathered my tattered great coat around me and put my cap deep down on my head. Ciaphas Cain, hollow shell of a man, was marching on.

The harsh light in the briefing room stabbed me in the eye as I looked at the gathered bodies.

Kasteen, Broklaw, the PDF colonels and their second-in commands, whose names I still didn't know. As if it mattered. They were all huddled around a hololith, producing an image more clear and focused for longer times than most I can remember. Somehow that made it looking harsher.

"Cain… is everything alright?"

I rotated my head till I was facing Colonel Kasteen, feeling more like a servitor than anything else. "No…," I said quietly. "No, it is not. But I will function." If my voice kept up like this, I could join the local PDF for creepiness factor. But Kasteen had managed to catch my subtle signals of not wanting to talk right now about anything besides our job. I wonder what gave me away.

"Excellent. Then I will conduct this briefing." The level, dry voice fitted my mood well.

The hololith flickered and changed its display. A map of Hades Prime and surroundings appeared, various symbols representing enemy formations marring it. I had no clue why they used re-coloured tank symbols to indicate Daemons, but I couldn't care less.

There were a lot of them. Good. My fingers flexed around my Las pistol.

With a blaring beep, the light over the armoured, double doored security gate changed and the inner door opened with an ominous hiss.

Silent, red towers moved into the room, taking up positions as crimson predators along the walls. Amidst them, a figure walked. With the gait of a servitor, the Maiden of Devotion approached the table. Blank, white armour looked dull in the cold light, pale skin contrasted with deep violet. A tiny, tiny hand grasping the hilt of a man long shaft, ending in a mesmerizing, more than foot long blade of sinister silver. Wetness coated her cheeks and I could see a tear leaking out of her eye. Lifeless, empty hair clung to her head like a dark pall.

Without creating any sound, whether from her shaking shoulders nor from the chair she scrapped over the floor to sit down she looked through the hololith; empty, unfocused eyes.

Stunned disbelief filled the room.

"Revered Anima. *hiss*" A deep, deep voice rumbled out of a dark mass, looming like a black thundercloud of emotion over the table. "Are there… *hiss* 'complications' *hiss* you wish to have…*hiss* removed? *hiss*"

A minute move of her head, barely moving from side to side, nothing else moving.

Another tear leaking out, slowly making its way across her cheek.

Silence.

"Do you wish me to continue this meeting?" Asked a neutral voice.

A nod. Hair falling over eyes. Two tiny orbs of salty water falling on pristine white.

"Very well." With a hand gesture, the Colonel attempted to draw our attention back to the hololith; he more or less failed. To this day, I am convinced you could see the dataslate in front of Lord Radev vibrating, from the sheer amount of anger he exuded.

"As you can see here and here are significant concentrations of civilian survivors."

He pointed towards two piles of symbols on the hololith. "Projections estimated between five hundred thousand and one million survivors hiding within the limits of the city's biodome. The opposing forces spread out over the potential battlefield are substantial. Considering the numerical quantities, observed capabilities of encountered extra-material creatures and available resources, as well as our recently acquired top priority I suggest the eradication of the city. According to the initiated Ragnarok-Protocol our Deathstrike..."

While the grey haired man droned on with the modulation and emotional depth of a lobotomized servitor, four symbols lit up on the display, well outside of the city bounds. When I looked them up later, I discovered they were used to indicate Vortex weaponry.

"No…please…"

It was not more than a choked whisper, tremors shook her body and I imagined to hear her sobs, but no sound emerged from her rigid form.

Emperor protect me. Serenity's Mercy. Help! Why was she looking at me?

Somewhere, a dataslate broke.

"Colonel." I managed to bring out. "I…believe we need to come up with an alternative. We…we need… We need to fight them. The Daemons." Warp be damned, had I really said that?

But it was worth it. Her lips curved. A faint, hesitant smile shone on her face, tears still glistering and falling.

"As you prefer." With adjustments that looked blasphemous in their simplicity and ordinary way the hololith changed again. I gave the Colonel a blank look. He expected us to buy that he was prepared for a complete change of plans and had already a sound strategy?

He pretended not to notice.

"Analyses have shown that the enemy is deployed in a decentralised way, showing no clear profile of formations, concentrated mostly in the western quadrant of the city. It must be assumed that he is heavily entrenched in civilian structures and prepared for an exhausting string of small-scale battles in close quarters. Since our forces are at a disadvantage under the mentioned conditions, I propose a two pronged assault composed of infantry with heavy tank support. Obviously, the manoeuvrability of our heavy weapons will be severely limited, but their firepower is predicted to be vital to our success."

"*hiss* My troops possess enough *hiss* ordinary ordinance to bring down *hiss* every infested structure within city limits *hiss* if necessary, the whole city itself. *hiss*" As soon as a certain Colonel found a way to use anger as ordinance, Hades VI would be able to decommission its KDY Cannon.

I shook myself away from the view of the silently crying Anima, her hurt aching in my bones. Battling house for house with Daemons…I was not looking forward to that, even if we did blow each and every suspicious house up. But the Anima was right. It had to be done. I just had to make sure I was elsewhere when the real fighting started.

"According to our new strategic objective, we will aim to avoid an escalation to that scale. Colonel Radev will lead the northern force from the Executor, while I will push through the southern quadrant with Orcus Argentum. Once our forces have merged, we will initiate a consistent push into the eastern quadrant. To contain the enemy force, I suggest that the 597th Valhallans take position at the eastern borders of the city and entrench within the buildings to deny the enemy the ability of manoeuvring out in the open field. The limited amount of heavy assault vehicles within the Valhallan order of battle suggests that a prolonged assault against fortified positions of significant amounts of extra-material creatures is not prudent."

If he wanted to say that it was a 'bad' idea to run head first into massed Daemons waiting for you, then yes, he was a genius. Colonel Kasteen wasn't to keen on storming a Daemon infested city either, and we quickly agreed. Planning the details of the assault, I realized that the 'PDF' had so much heavy equipment that they actually had to leave a sizeable amount of it outside the city. One of the Aide's muttered something about 'too much Dakka' but I didn't get it.

While everyone was still pondering the best deployment for our troops, I finally decided that there was no use denying it and brought it up, reluctantly.

"We should consider that these are not the only Chaos forces on the planet."

Everyone turned to me; except for a small girl sitting rejected in our midst, staring at the hololith again.

Kasteen furrowed her brows and I could see understanding beginning to glimmer in her eyes.

The little adventure with our Tallarn friends was still fresh on our minds.

"Interesting. Where exactly should we expect additional enemy forces?" Ahh, and pass me the Caba nuts, would you? I tried to be as nonchalant about it.

"Considering yesterday's… evening excitement, we are looking on Slaneeshi influence, too.

From what we have seen so far, the main host of the Daemonic troops appear to be Khornate.

Now, I am no Inquisitor, but as far as I know Khorne and Slaneesh go together as well as an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor and a Tech Priest of the Mechanicum in a theological debate."

"Indeed. This interruption to my evening meal was most counter productive." Okay. I had officially lost the nonchalance game.

"Cain is right." Kasteen nodded. "It is doubtful that the Daemonettes arrived together with Khorne troops. Either there are other ships, or they slipped out of the Warp Storm on their own power. Or… there might be heretics on this world. Summoners."

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the humming of the hololith and laboured, mechanical breathing.

"*hiss*….*hiss*….*hiss*…I will inquire *hiss* about any possible sources of *hiss* undesirable conduct *hiss*….*hiss*…*hiss*"

Somehow, I didn't like the sound of that, and loosened the collar of my uniform.

The rest of the room looked equally disturbed, with the exception of the slip of wisplike girl sitting with crying eyes at our table, forlorn between the silent red statues flanking her; and, well, you can guess it; at least the dry voice was still neutral and not cheery. Although I had a certain impression that I hastily tried to dismiss.

"Good initiative, Lord Radev. Since our orbital sensor network is operating within acceptable conditions it seems improbable that any extra-materiel ship escaped detection. Is there any possibility to estimate the amount of forces of slaneeshi origin?" With a regal nod, Chancellor Soudisi addressed Kasteen again.

"No; prediction of Chaos actions have always been… difficult. They seem to be … chaotic."

I was pretty sure that Kasteen didn't want to pun, but could not resist it, despite the sombre, choking atmosphere. In some ways, these PDF guys were really green.

"Very well. In that case, I will prepare adequate countermeasures against Slaneeshi attempts to stop our offensive." A shiver run down my spine.

We concluded the meeting with the decision to begin our assault on the morning of the following day. While the city was in easy reach and we could deploy there in an hour, it was decided to give our troops a day of downtime. Originally, we would have preferred more, but in the case of further civilian casualties we had decided on a compromise. Any other campaign and I would have pressed for 'never', but in the face of Colonel Soudisi's Vortex-Load carrying Deathstrike Launchersystems, even I did not make any mention of abandoning the city.

I am a professional. Huge, round, vulnerable, teary eyes did not influence my decision.

I had retreated to my office, rather successfully dodging any questions some of my esteemed comrades at arms could have, and buried myself in paperwork. If one drifts just deep enough in the labyrinth of procedures, designations and formats that the Administratorum had managed to refine over 10,000 years to a point that it denied even Tzeentch the ability to spy from Imperial Documentation, it was rather easy to avoid thinking about anything else.

Unfortunately, it made one not blind but caused severe hallucinations. Still, in my experience it was usually prudent to be polite to illusions.

"Uhm…Senshi reversed. Horned me is, but… me not think good."

I cringed. While she may not be crying anymore, her slow, careful movements expressed her state of mind very good and the look… oh, the look. I had heard the tales of the vast psychic powers of the Anima of the Imperium. But that they manifested this way I would never have dreamed. I felt like a very, very bad Commissar.

She put the tea service carefully down on my desk.

"Please…me Hotaru. Yes?"

Maybe I could arrange for someone to deliver a dataslate with usual Imperial protocols towards highest figures of the Ecclesiarchy to her. No one I disliked enough came to mind. At least, no one I would want anywhere near the vicinity of an Anima of the Imperium.

"Yes, of course Hotaru. Forgive my short lapse."

I wouldn't call it a smile, but she nodded in a pleased way, looking shyly at me.

"So…Cain no like tea? Me thought refreshment would need."

I had never been a great diplomat, I was much better at running away from my problems, but an Avatar of Death was between me and the only door. That called for desperate tactics.

"That's a very nice thought of you, indeed, Hotaru. But I do not think we should do this. In fact, regarding to tomorrows battle I need to finish these reports and…" Well, the reports were decisive to our war effort. Somewhere. I was sure of it.

"Ohhh… me help. Me no Ami, but me good."

An eager, determined nod send me stammering again. It was 'frowned' upon in the Commissariat to have your reports ghost written by mythical figures of Imperial history. I did not manage a very coherent answer, but from her dropping shoulders it was clear she understood me well.

"Or…or going for walk, yes? Cain showing Hotaru everything? Please can make time short?"

I like to think that I am an individual with considerable willpower; my mental strength was enough to prevent most psyker's from reading more than my faintest surface thoughts. But right then and there, all that counted for naught. Her lip was quivering.

I had no real idea what the Imperial Garrison contained in its long tunnels, so we just walked around the grey corridors. Well, I didn't feel too bad about it, because I mostly saw red. The Senshi's usual guard was deployed around us. I suppose it had its uses, because they blocked most of the revered and awed stares of the soldiers we met. Even for me, and I am no small man.

Unfortunately, they didn't block the sounds of people dropping to their knees or starting to pray. Loudly. Under normal circumstances I would not have minded that kind of attention, if it wasn't focussed on me. But there were circumstances. On one occasion, said circumstance even managed to get rolled up in my great coat. [Mentioning of further details is considered Heresy of highest order. The Inquisition.][We really mean it. The Inquisitorial High Conclave.]

Then, it got worse.

"So…Cain, me tell. I not heard Commissar. What rank officer that is?"

I blinked at her, momentarily off balance. It actually made sense. I was not sure when exactly the Commissariat had been founded, but probably not before the Heresy. What was more problematic to me was how to approach that topic. I felt a certain amount of 'tact' would be in order.

"A Commissar is a political officer, not strictly a military rank, … Hotaru."

I was pretty sure her Guardians would not shoot me for daring to use her actual name. Maybe. Anyways, her eyes, their guns. I am a coward at heart, the decision was easy.

Understanding bloomed on her face and I blew off a sigh of relief.

"Ohhh… political officer. Which party is you?"

Only the certainty that the robed guards 'would' shoot me if I grabbed on their robes when I stumbled kept me from said stumbling. Ok. We did probably have had a slight miss communication. It happens. Language barriers and dialects are that way. Honestly. That was nothing to worry about.

"Erm, not exactly a party. I… I am more responsible for the morale and fighting spirit of the troops."

Understanding bloomed on her face. "Ohhh…"

Damn these guards. Without them I could have dived through a door. A window. Something.

"So make sure troops happy? Good eating, nice room, holiday, talk about their worries?"

Then, it got worse…

Emperor be damned, I had been in some tight spots during my career. But few had left me so unhinged. After an hour of the now second most agonizing conversation in my career (and none of the two in question is the very close and personal 'conversation' a Dark Eldar once had with me.) I had managed to escape to my quarters once more. Jurgen's odour coated me like a calming lotion and I gnawed at my dataslates. Wrote my reports, I mean.

The Anima had mentioned she would visit Colonel Radev and Soudisi, but I did not care at the moment. There are some conversations a grown man of the Imperium should not have with a young girl. And no, I certainly was not talking about that topic.

Well, I consider myself lucky that no Inquisitor ever uncovered every single one of my thoughts. Because the image right now, of Him On His Throne having the…'talk' with His Daughter was probably not part of any official accepted dogma of the Imperial Cult. Although I have never heard the contrary, either. Fortunately, the next Inquisitor was dozen of light years away, of that I was sure.

**Imperial Lunar Class Cruiser Ceres' Charge, Bridge**

"Inquisitor. There is a problem with our destination." The speaker was a portly man, a bushy moustache nearly obscuring the lower half of his face and broad shoulders decorated with the gold insignia of a Captain in His Imperial Majesty's Holy Navy.

"A…problem, Captain?" The robbed figure regarded the naval officer with a cool gaze.

Gerard De'soy was not used to hearing this tone directed to him, nor this kind of gaze. Not on his own bridge. He was the Lord and Master of his ship, his word was law, and decided about the life and death of everyone on board. Literally, and legally. Well, except for a representative of the Inquisition. Gerard was an intelligent man. He had to be, to command a Starship such as his. At least he liked to think that way. And he liked to be able to think. That was why he nodded meekly in response to the question and merely explained.

"Yes, Lady Inquisitor. The navigator senses the presence of a Warpstorm at our destination. I would advise to refrain from entering it." Another unreadable gaze.

"Of course, Captain. Bring us to normal space as close to the Warpstorm as possible without overly compromising our safety."

He really, really did not like to deal with the Inquisition. Could she not have requisitioned another Cruiser from Segmentum Command? Scouting the front lines of the Cadian Gate was such a nice place this time of the year.

"Close to the Warpstorm, my Lady?"

Blue eyes reflected his own, he could feel waves of displeasure rolling of her. "Yes, Captain."

He nodded, and fled from his own bridge, seeking refuge in the room housing the tank of the navigator.

The robbed figure fondled a small, cylindrical object absentmindedly in her hand.

She did not like to act without all information. Or any at all.

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison**

Excerpt from Captain Sulla's Notes

Slowly I got up from my knees. My face still glowing with the religious fervour I felt. It was true. It was real. I had seen Her. She had walked past me!

The Princess of Saturn! A Senshi. A living, breathing, talking, walking Anima of the Imperium of Man. One of the gentle Maidens, they who had helped Humanity understand His teachings and following His way. Their mercy had conquered whole worlds!

Their absolution saved billions, their Gifts had blessed more. Their peace had brought Serenity. Their greatest was Living Serenity!

My heart rejoiced at the thought. I felt the sudden, urgent need to sing a Hymn to praise the Glory of the Imperium. Of Him. Of Her. I did not resist the urge. How could I?

My soul, My spirit, sang with me, every fibre of my being praising Her. Her Divinity, Her Holiness. How easy it was to see. Her movements of grave dignity, Her delicate features, Her Divine garb. Her smooth legs. The whole of Her Supreme Being.

Truly, I was a woman blessed by the Emperor. And so were my fellow Guardsmen.

For we had received a honour. A honour only befitting the Holy Astartes themselves, His Mailed Fists, His Chosen. But He had gifted us with the same duty… nay, the same Honour.

We were chosen. Chosen to protect one of His daughters!

An Anima of the Imperium, the Gentle Spirits of His Guiding Mind. The Senshi, the Defenders of the Realm. They, who had taken up arms when the need was greatest and defended us all. When the foul fruits turned traitor, entering a pact with the damned, and rose up against His Will, They had stood with Their Brothers, pure in spirit, absolute in conviction and helped their Might overcome the Great Enemy. How they had called the Wrath of the very planets themselves, cleansing His domain. Avenging His Wound, hunting down the remains of the traitors wherever they fled.

Mighty Jupiter, leading the uprising of Tarsonis, where ordinary men triumphed over the traitor marines, the Guardian Venus, protecting the Firstborne Daughter Herself who's Light alone stood against the warp, keeping it at bay. Merciful Mercury, granting Her gifts to all who flocked to His Banner, Pure Mars, who's prayer protected all those who's mind was pained.

They were Glorious, not the sheer Might of the Holy Primarch's but the Light that inspired us all; in the darkest hours They shone the brightest!

They had given their live for Him. For Us!

And now! Low and behold, one of Their numbers had returned! From beyond death She had descended to once more stand with us mere mortals, granting us Her balm.

Our victory was now all but assured, the Great Enemy vanquished!

The heretics might still rage and struggle against their inevitable fate now, but with Her Living Ideal guiding us, we would crush them! Crush!

The Heroes around me, together with myself would protect His Daughter from the foul Heretics who dared not only to defile His Domain with their presence, nay, they dared to defile the very planet She walked on. We would not stand for this. No Guardsmen would stand for this. We would give our blood and our live for Her.

Oh, how it shamed me. But I can not deny it in Her presence.

How I envied our brave Commissar. A living legend in his own right. Commissar Cain, Hero Of The Imperium! How She deigned to allow him to walk beside Her, to bask in Her Presence. How he must enjoy Her silent dignity and supreme form.

Never could we ordinary mortals aspire to reach these heights, but inspire she did us!

Not one woman, not one man was there in my company that would not gladly lay down his life for Her. I made sure of that. Our prayers were even more fervent these days than usual.

The unholy spawn of Chaos would not find us wanting. With the strength of our hearts and the Might of His guns we would show them the futility of standing against Mankind, of threatening those that were Holy.

Our Salvation walked amongst us, and we welcomed Her with open arms.

End of the excerpt from Captain Sulla's Notes

On a dead, desolate world

A lone figure stood on the top of a monolithic structure, surveying the world below. Its eyes looked upon broken earth, hostile land and alien structures. Strangeness, adverseness surrounded it as far as it could sense.

Elemental forces, deadly, destructive, shifted around the deceitfully small creature. But the creature was not harmed. It was, as if even the most elemental forces were…afraid. Did not dare to touch it. Maybe it was so. It's raw, potential power would have baffled even the most hardened of minds. Had baffled.

It was alone. The last of its kind. In this desolate place, nothing human could survive. Nothing human had survived. Nothing human would come to pass again.

The pressure. The figure could feel the pressure, bearing down, oppressing, overwhelming. Crushing. Damning. It was so easy… so easy to just give in. Its hand quivered, lowering…

But the creature would not fall. Would not fail. It was the last. It was the end. The hand stopped.

Not only here, but everywhere, desolation was endless. All encompassing.

Everything was ruined. Everything was Ruin. Soon. Soon, it would be.

A petite hand stroked along a powerful shaft, gently, lovingly. Dreamingly, longingly.

A blade quivered in anticipation.

The figure turned around and stepped back in the airlock, entering the Imperial Garrison once more, escorted by its silent, crimson guardians.

There would be a new beginning. Very soon.

Thoughts of Death. Of Rebirth. Of Revolution.


	10. Chapter 9

**Hades VI, Hades Prime**

She leered at him, careful to keep her fangs hidden, arching her body and showing off the gifts that Slaanesh had granted to her.

"Hello there, big boy… you look mightly strong. Let me feel you, I need to feel you…"

She moaned throatily.

Without hesitation, he walked over to her and put his fist squarely in her face. Her head snapped back and clashed against the wall with an ugly thud. A crack sounded and part of the wall toppled inward.

"You should not have done that, Khornate fool!"

She hissed and jumped forward, unnatural strength propelling her through the air and claws made to shred armour with the same ease as flesh and bone sprouted from her fingers.

Golan sneered, and snapped a kick in the face of the pathetic creature. An armoured boot, size 96, smashed nose, chin and face. The female's body crashed against the wall once more.

"Oh yes, yes… give me more, give it to me!"

"Crazy Wench!" *Snikt*

With but a thought, his Lightning Claws came forth and his opponent halted her approach, beginning to circle him. With a howl of rage he stormed forward, like the unstoppable juggernaut of destruction he was, intend to rip his victim apart.

With prenatural speed the Daemonette dived to the side, but what was prenatural speed to one like Him? He kicked out again, squarely on her stretched knee and with a satisfying sound it bursts into a spray of blood and flesh, bones ground to splinters. Again, his prey screamed. A scream of pleasure, he could hear her ecstasy.

Somehow, that was taking all the fun out of it. He hated Slaaneshi freaks. Hate! Blood!

Crush! Crush!

Before his enemy could recover from her ecstatic writhing, he was upon her, smashing both of his glowing claws in her shoulders. Even while the explosion of force threw her arms to the sides and tore her torso apart he smashed his head forward, his forehead caving in her skull. With a disgusted snort he rose up again. This skull was not worthy. He roared.

How dare this bitch approach Him! Him! Disgusting, weak, insignificant thing. She and others defiled the domain of his Master. They would all die, gruesome, bloody deaths and their skulls would lie before his God's throne.

A spike, not made from this world, pierced the armour of his arm, spearing him. It delivered its otherworldly poison of death, before ripping out again, taking most of his flesh with it.

He screamed in anger! Throwing himself around, he ducked down as the Fiend jumped him and slashed out with his right claw, cutting chitin and flesh indiscriminately, gutting the Daemon.

The explosion of force from his lightning claws threw the creature through the wall, and without hesitation, Golan stormed through the opening. The unnatural poison burned in his veins, trying to eat his body alive, but he ignored it, soon it would fade. The instant he passed into the next room, a cloud of dust and powder enveloping him, four appendices shot forward, trying to spear the blinded man.

With a crashing sound, two claws parried the appendices. Golan laughed at the insect before his might, and pushed its feeble extremities to the side, stomping down hard on the creature, like the bug it was. Still, it was reeling and quivering so he brought down both of his claws again, and with the mighty strength of both his arms the Chosen of Khorne sliced through the creature. And the floor. With a destructive wave of force, the lightning in his claws detonated. Finally, Golan got stuck in the next floor, after their fall.

**Hades VI, outskirts of Hades Prime**

Uneasily, I was checking our deployments once more. It was perfect. Well, it was good and I could not find any fault with it, anyway.

We had already passed what the locals called 'Ionization Based Cyclic Atmospheric Repulsion Shield Projection Orb Phalanx' and what we called 'Biodome' or if we felt generous 'sparkling Biodome'. Sparkles floating between strange looking towers or not, we were still all wearing our envirosuits. According to said locals, the 'IBCARSPOP' was designed with ample 'redundancy' and able to take 'considerable amounts of punishment before a catastrophic containment failure might occur' but considering the firepower deployed, an 'overload of standard safety protocols was a distinct possibility'. Emperor's Wisdom, but their cog boys were even crazier than most I have met.

Our Chimeras were even now rumbling towards the main roads leading into the city, ready to dismount troops and split up in the pre planned formations. Securing the more robust of the outlying buildings, we would be ready to give anything that wanted to get out of the town a bloody nose. Considering the half a dozen Baneblades and the more numerous heavy tanks that the 'local PDF' had distributed behind our lines, it would probably be more than a bloody nose. Still… we were going to fight Daemons of the Warp itself here.

While I was at least assured that the Valhallan's would not fold up like cardboard and run screaming once the unnatural horrors screamed their cries of eternal torture and soul crushing agony in their faces, I was less sure about the 'local PDF'. On the other hand, I don't think Lord Radev ever had need for a Commissar improving the morale of his regiment.

But my palms were twitching like mad. I was considering just turning around and driving back to the fortress, hiding under my bed. And making very sure my door was locked, even for certain Holy Icon's of the Imperium. At least She was back in the fortress, stowed away and far from the front lines. Absolutely no one wanted a Symbol of Mankind on the frontlines, drawing fire.

Delaying our assault without sufficient reasons was out of the question, too. I had very little desire to find out what a previously mentioned Dark Lord had meant when he had talked about 'inquiring' and 'undesirable conduct'. I rubbed my throat.

With a screeching stop, our Salamander came to a halt. Already having checked the street for any movement, I lunged out and quickly took cover against the walls of the building we were supposed to fortify, trusty Las pistol gripped in my hand. No use in standing out in the open, giving snipers any ideas about shooting the guy with the big cap. The big cap tapped to his helmet.

Huffing, the men of Sergeant Dale followed up to my position. They were good, no doubt about that. But you will be hard pressed to find anyone that takes cover faster than me.

There were still way too many dark, open or broken windows all around me for my tastes, so with little pause I dived through the open door, rolled and came to a crouch inside the room. Scanning it for anything that might want to disembowel me, take my skull for it's God, fill me up with enough pestilence to make Jurgen look clean, rape me to death or just dick around with me enough that my head bursts. Fortunately, neither a Daemon of the Warp nor a member of the Administratum was in the room.

The first of Dale's men, well, in this case women filled in the room and looked at me with respect. For a moment I was at a loss, than it snapped into place. 'Of course' they thought the 'Hero of the Imperium' had taken the daring approach and stormed the building on his own, despite the danger of a Khornate Ambush. They are feared, these ambushing Berzerker's of Khorne. Their battle cry of 'AAAAAAMBUSH' strikes disbelief even in the mind of the most simple of men. At least I suppose so. I have never actually met any of them.

Quick and efficient, we set up shop, barricading doors and lower windows while parking our Chimera and my Salamander in the back, poised for quick escape, erm, rapid redeployment. Our Autocannon got propped up on a tripod in the upper floor with a clear field of fire, courtesy to my aide's favourite Melta.

Satisfied, I sat down behind a couple of walls, as much out of harm's way as I was able to get right now. Checking the command channel, there was not much going on. Just routine deployment orders and corrections. Well, as routine as you could get when assaulting a Chaos infested city. With a Titan. Some things were harder to swallow than others.

**Hades VI, Hades Prime**

Sergeant Sirron raised a hand to his face, and grunted in annoyance as his helmet prevented him from scratching his beard. "Damn regulations." He grumbeled.

He and his squad had entered the city now, and were slowly moving through each and every single house they encountered, checking for cultists, Daemons and the smudge that covered the corners of your mouth after a good night's sleep. A tedious work, if anyone bothered to ask him. They didn't. Their loss, he guessed.

"All clear, Sarge."

He grunted in his response, looking through the aiming optic of his Las gun, checking the street for hostiles. They still hadn't found jack.

"Okay, cover me, we are moving to the next target. Remember, if you give me any friendly fire accidents, I'll roundhouse kick you harder than Orcus."

He wasn't that grumpy normally. But he didn't like cities. He was a Ranger, bred true and free. Still, he wasn't about to discuss his deployment with Colonel Soudisi. Respect and all that. Honestly. Idly jogging over to the house, he saw a mob of funny looking guys pop up, wielding axes, knives, guns, everything they could get their hands on. Reminded him of home, the Fernando's were always like that.

He pressed himself against the door, and blasted a couple of the loons off their feet. Las guns were remarkable effective against unarmoured targets. His squad joined in, but honestly, that was just overkill. Although a few of them crawled on, till you cooked their head or a very generous amount of their anatomy. Still, he had meet more creepier crawlies. Some of the grogs back home could get pretty scary. To other people at least.

"For Chaos!"

The cousin or something of one of the loons lunged out of a window towards him.

"In your face!"

And that was exactly where he hit the loon when he roundhouse kicked him through the door. A couple of the crazies friends didn't look to happy about that, and fired a bunch of Las bolts in his direction. He just shrugged and went in, going after them. That wouldn't take long.

Barely finished with the local morons, he heard screaming from the outside.

"Trevitte. Trevitte, stop playing around and come in."

Static.

He grunted. His beard quivered with anger. Did he have to bail him out again? He roundhouse kicked the door, and stepped out on the street.

Hmm. That was a big one. Almost like big Joe back home. He raised up his Las gun and gave him hell. But the freak just ducked under the bolts and raced towards him, claws raised and his armour covered in the blood and gore of his squad. He could see their pieces lying all around the street.

"Blood for the Blood God!"

So he wanted it up close and personal, huh? He preferred it that way anyways. Shifting out of the way of the claws, he roundhouse kicked the sucker in the face. And got body checked through the door, the room and the adjourning wall.

Ouch. That had hurt. He kicked out and used the momentum to jump back to his feet. The oversized puddle was coming at him again, with the speed of a pterasquirrel on crack. Huckc had barely time to fire his Las pistol from the hip, the shots glancing harmlessly off of the freaks legs. Aiming a second roundhouse kick, he dodged around the incoming claws, …

…Golan roared in satisfaction as his claws sliced through the body of the soldier in front of him and their energies ripped it apart, spraying blood and gore all over the room. Opening his mouth wide, Golan swallowed a bit of it. Still, that one had given him a bit of a fight. Unlike the sheep outside, he thought happily munching. He would offer his skull to his God.

He looked again at the torn apart corpse. But the beard had to go.

Groode turned his head, scanning the buildings around him with utmost attention.

He really, really didn't want to get surprised by one of this blood crazed freaks lurking around behind every corner. He had seen what they did to Greg. The guy had have a very crappy kind of humour, but really… what they had done to him, that was nothing you wished on your worst enemy. These freaks were sick.

He gripped his Hellgun more firmly and inched a step closer to the Leman Russ Silencer he was walking next to. Their flanking fire teams were still probing house for house, while they inched slowly forward. It was nerve wrecking.

Give him a fox hole, a couple of guys to shoot at and he could keep it up for the whole day. But this slow push in the city, from possible ambush to ambush, waiting for literal Daemonic creatures out of nightmares to rip you apart with claws strong enough to rend plasteel and skin that could shrug off Las bolts…

He took a deep calming breath from his Breather Mask, eyeing his squad mates out of the corner of his eyes. They were tense, too. Marek even more so. He knew Marek. He was not the sturdiest soul of all, but a good chap. And he was ready to bolt. He could see it.

He couldn't fault him for it. Really. Couldn't they just call in the artillery and flatten the whole Emperor-forsaken place? He had never liked the central city anyways; ugly, hulking buildings, not like the outer cities with the more personal homes. And windows. Who the hell had put so many windows in them?

Was that a movement?

He whirled around, looking to his target optic. The illumination amplifier showed nothing in the shadows…nothing at all.

"Groode. Something there?"

The Sarge barked out, covering the same spot, the rest of the troopers fanned out to cover other angles.

"No, Sarge….sorry."

He didn't feel sorry, not really. Well, sorry for himself maybe. What were they all doing here? A shred of tension fell away from the squad.

No one could tell what came first. The breaking sound of shattered glass or the horrifying

shouts of the charging mad men and beasts.

"Blood for the Blood God!"

"Skulls for the Skull Throne."

"MAIM!CRUSH!KILL!MAIM!CRUSH!KILL!CRUSH!MAIN!MA…sod it! KILLLL!"

They were everywhere. Rushing out of doors, windows, clothed in tattered robes, brandishing axes, cleavers and showering us with Las pistol fire. Armoured giants jumping down from roofs, carried by Jump Packs, the teeth of their chained axes roaring. Beasts like I had never seen and never wanted to see bursting through WALLS. Armoured giants wielding gruesome axes rushing us.

"Spread fire, take out the unarmoured targets first, and stay in line."

One long, rolling ZZZZAAAAPPPP filled the air as our Hellguns stabbed lances of light in the howling masses of madness, the thundering, heavy bolter turrets roared, ripping apart an armoured giant and the mighty Silencer Cannon carved long gashes through the mob. Where it touched, flesh, bone and armour just ceased to exist.

A Las blast hit my shoulder, breaking against my carapace armour but I paid it no mind, pumping out Las death as quickly as I could. They still kept coming. We gunned down more than a dozen of them, but they closed in. Princess! What were we doing here?

And the screams… from the house one of our fire teams was inside…the screams!

My HUD lit up more, highlighting the targets for me and like every time I just moved my hands and blasted them. Blasted them as always.

A shadow fell over me, and I dived to the side. Searing pain shot through my arm as it was carved open by a roaring axe, the teeth ripping my flesh apart. The giant took a step closer to me, already red from Carl's blood.

"For the Princess!"

Sarge, Saturn bless him, rammed his Hellgun in the neck of the hulking form, between helm and armour and pulled the trigger, a dozen blasts ripping in the brain of the twitching mountain of flesh in the span of a second.

I didn't see Sarge for long, as suddenly a claw flashed and his torso exploded all over me.

Chunks and bits of flesh and bone pounding against my armour. I don't know about bloody, there was already so much. Princes Preserve…That one was even larger.

And completely crazy, not even wearing a helmet. The shaggy haired man, man formed Daemon raised his crackling claws again, Power Armour wet from blood and I brought my Hellgun up in desperation, squeezing out blasts as if my live depended on it.

Crackling against his Armour, not penetrating but moving up higher, towards his head.

With a sneer, the monster cut my Hellgun in half.

"That TOY won't help you, bub." He thundered and stepped forward.

What was I doing here? What was I doing? The bringer of a bloody death loomed before me. What could I do… my mind flashed.

The tender face of our Princess. The black, looming form of the Colonel. I jumped forward, my hands dropping. I crashed against the crusted Power Armour of the beast, it did not even stumble. But my hands found the pin of my frag grenade…

Golan shook his head, bits of flesh and blood flying everywhere, even as his face reformed.

Huh. That had been fun. He heard the screaming as one of the Bloodletters, whatever he may be called, wrenched open the hatch of the tank, only to be kicked aside by a Berzerker before said Worshipper of Khorne jumped head first inside.

Golan laughed. He would look that one up after the battle, it would be fun to take his Skull for Khorne. But for now… he had more prey to slay. One of the pathetic worms who dared to call themselves followers of Khorne reported to him the next unit of these weak fools following their corpse emperor. After the worm had finished his pathetic mewling, Golan ripped his head off in a shower of gore, discarding the worthless Skull to the side and lead his Warband on. A Baneblade. That would be… delicious.

A looming, dark form stalked through empty husks of buildings, eyes and scenes scanning for prey, trusty weapon, that had cut down countless foes, gripped firmly. There, movement.

A fire team of soldiers was creeping forward, covering every angle of their surroundings, keeping in cover and alert to any ambush. It was not enough.

Without preamble, hideous forms jumped from the top of a five story building, not even pausing after the bone jarring impact but running forward, taking a few Las bolts to their bodies, shrugging them off and escaping the most through sheer speed. Jumping from half a dozen metres away, the first descended on an unfortunate soldier to slow to follow the unnaturally fast movements with his muzzle.

With a low humming sound, the Power Blade of the Dark Lord cleaved the creature in part, both halves tumbling to the side, hitting the rockrete with a sickening squash. Another Bloodletter took the head of a soldier clean off, a mighty swing of his Hellblade cutting through envirosuit, flesh and bone alike.

Concentrated Hellgun fire ripped into one of its brethren, mangling its leg, sending it to the ground and continuing to snake over the rest of its body like living, fiery snakes straight from the heated pits of hell. A glancing blow carved the leg of a soldier open, there, a hasty kick crushing the rip cage of another, sending him crashing in a wall.

But finally, a wave of sheer anger erupted with a roar to shake the heavens.

Mighty guns bristling in the light, disciplined soldiers keeping positions around it, alert teams of them combing house for house, the behemoth of plasteel slowly rolled forward.

He pulled back his lips in a feral grin. That would be… fun.

He punched the Bloodletter next to him in the face. "Signal the attack!" The Daemon reared, but with the unspoken signal, the Warband surged forward, breaking cover and racing to the lost souls worshipping pathetic, weak things. Golan jumped from the roof, roaring his bloodlust out to the world.

"Blood for the Blood God!" The first blood was his, as his legs burst under the shock of the landing. He did not mind.

"Skulls for the Skull throne!" He raced on, his muscles half formed.

A Hellgun raked across his shoulder guards, but he ignored it. There was hardly anything on the field that could pierce the shoulder guards of an Astartes armour.

He felt the exhilarating rush of battle as the detonation of a grenade propelled him forward, a Las Cannon blast of the Baneblade passing close enough to his head to send his skin bubbling and his claws ripping in the first trooper.

He spun around, even as the trooper blew up like a chicken filled with firecrackers, the head reaching a height of nearly ten meters before crashing down. His next victim dropped low, raising his gun, but he just stepped on the worm, to come face to face with a soldier wielding a flamer, already blazing forth its cleansing flames.

Even as the promethium cooked away his flesh and washed over his armour he head butted him, enflaming the fool and finally carving him open with a quick slice of his claws. He was close to his target now, the Baneblade loomed before him.

And a twin-barrelled heavy Bolter pointed exactly at his chest.

A storm of massive projectiles ripped into his chest, punching through armour and detonating inside him, spraying blood, gore and bits of armour everywhere. He was thrown back by the sheer force ripping into him and only his epaulette saved his arm as the Bolter fire raked over it.

The mighty main gun of the Baneblade swivelled around and fired a pale stream of light; three of the howling Berzerker's just vanished. PDF troopers fought desperately against deranged Cultists, traitorous Space Marines and warpborne Daemons, blood and chunks of flesh coating the ground, reddish-white bones sticking out.

Golan rolled to his side, crouched and got his feet, running against towards the Baneblade.

He would not be denied. He would not! Again, a Bolter locked onto him, but with a jump he escaped the deadly hail. A Lascannon swivelled trying to keep up with him, but he was a Chosen of Khorne! His speed was that of slaughter! Before the pathetic fools could do more to hinder his freedom of religion, he reached the immense tank and raked his claws alongside it, shredding armour.

I gripped my Las pistol tighter. We had always known that it would be a gritty and bloody business. The PDF boys had run into some stiff resistance, and from the sound of it, it was not only the crazed mass of blood lusting lunatics that we had expected. Well, Daemons and Traitor Marines, too. But they were acting weird, not nearly as blind and crazy as I had hoped.

"3rd Company is reporting movement in their sector…. They have contact."

Ah, great. And now they were assaulting us too. Had I mentioned lately that I am still petitioning for that teaching position at the Schola? Far away from here, from Chaos Incursions and from Daemons howling for my blood?

"Colonel, we have several platoon sized formations pressing against us. Daemons, too. We need support, Colonel, they keep coming."

Captain Ralif was a good man, but we are talking about Chaos here. They literally want to rip out your throat and drink your blood. And that's the nice ones.

"Hold the line, Captain, reserves are deployed, you are not alone."

Well, Kasteen was holding it together pretty well. I doubt that anyone beside me could tell how tense she sounded over the crackling Vox net. But that still left me out here, waiting for the next superhuman killer machine to take my skull and present it to some dark god or the other in a horror realm of blood and violence. Maybe I should have petitioned for a ride in the Orcus Argentum, our resident Titan and God-Machine. Sure, it was a big target. But damn, was it Big.

Big in that dimension counted for a lot.

Come to think about it, no. I didn't want to be there at all. It was still the command 'vehicle' of a certain PDF colonel. No way was I staying closer to him than I absolutely had too.

Besides, our sector was pretty quiet so far. From the Vox chatter, we were nearly the only ones so lucky. The rest of the Valhallans was pressed pretty hard. I tried to keep still and encourage the rest of the regiment to forget about me. Yes, it worked as well as you guessed.

The tone in the Vox lines continued to grow more tense and sooner or later someone was going to remember a certain 'Hero of the Imperium'.

Crappy options are crappy, but aside from scouting the front of our lines for forces approaching my current sector (which sounds as stupid and suicidal to me, as it sounds to you) my only option was to grab Jurgen and rush to reinforce our nearest position under fire.  
Which happened to be Sulla's.

Emperor, Why? I have always been nice to your Daughter.

I would only have been half surprised if I would have gotten an actual answer that day, but as it was, I did get none. So I did in fact grab Jurgen, and rushed to our Salamander.

"Cain here. I will just scoot over and back up Captain Sulla a bit, Colonel. Will be over in no time." I tried for nonchalant, again. The PDF flunkies were pretty good teachers.

"We will hold the line with His Holy Might until you arrive, Commissar!"

Well, I hoped she would back it up with sufficient Las gun fire, too. But no matter how lunatic, Sulla was a veteran soldier. And the lunatics on our side did shoot a lot better than the lunatics on the other side.

Climbing in the Salamander, I grabbed the pintle mounted bolter and struck a vaguely heroic pose for the squad; no need to not improve their morale a little when their 'hero' drove off to combat; while Jurgen began to do what brave people might call driving. I didn't mind, it got me quickly out of trouble if need be.

Unfortunately, fast driving is not everything.

We did not get very far, before a Chaos Reaper crashed down on our engine hood, armoured metal groaning and bending under the impact. Before I could do so much as utter a prayer to the Emperor, or, to be more honest, fire half the Bolt Rounds loaded in the mounted Bolter in the bend over Marine, he struck out with his Power Blade.

Only the rabid jerking in our movement when Jurgen twitched as the Marine landed and my desperate jump saved my head. But it did not save me from a world of hurt, as I tumbled out of the moving Salamander, and head over heel along the street. Finally, I stopped my uncontrolled movement.

With my head. Using a handy wall. Had I mentioned how much I thanked the Princess's Wisdom for the helm during this campaign?

Groaning, I got up and pulled out my Las pistol. But the Salamander and the Marine were already gone around the next corner. I hastened forward, well, I hastened till I noticed how badly mangled my leg was and I cursed loudly. My helm was cracked, too. Better the helm than my head, I thought and discarded it. The main problem, aside from the Chaos Marine somewhere in the vicinity was that my Vox system was gone with the helm, too.

Still, I managed to drag myself around the corner, and saw our Salamander. Jurgen was still inside, still alive, and the Chaos Marine was on the ground, but already getting back to his feet. I raised my Las pistol, as Jurgen gunned the engine, hard. The reason became apparent a second later as a mob of howling Chaos cultists was disgorged by an alley, firing wildly and chasing after the Salamander, together with the Marine. Judging from their movements, I expected each and every Cultist to be filled up to the brim with Slaught.

I stepped back in cover and considered my options.

Aside from screaming for help loudly, and hoping that someone besides the raging forces of Chaos heard me, I could either stay in this spot or try to get back to our lines.

Getting back would include a considerable amount of travelling by foot, alone, without armour, escort or someone to push in the way of enemy fire.

Staying put meant waiting for the next mob of raging lunatics that would cut me to pieces, present my skull to their god, drink my blood and then kill me afterwards. Or something along these lines.

Neither sounded really like the way I wanted to spend my afternoon. All I could do was to hope for Jurgen to make it back to our lines, organize a squad or small army of soldiers and come to my rescue. Which would be considerable harder to do, if I run around the city like a chicken with its head cut off. Although that strategy had a certain appeal to it.

So I climbed through the next open window I could find and ducked down in the room I found there, munching on some Caba nuts left on a table. If I was going to die horribly, I would at least have crackers with it.

Golan raised his head from the burning wreckage. Ignoring the howls, roars and screams of his minion around him he sniffed again. Yes… yes, one of them was here. His prey. He would kill. HE WOULD TAKE HIS FUCKING SKULL AND DANCE ON HIS GRAVE!

Golan shook himself, wondering idly where the couple of smouldering Cultists body parts around him came from and started to sprint. He knew where to go…

Contrary to what most medicae will try to tell you, Caba nuts can in fact go bad. What is even more important, they do not cause stomach aches or digestion problems, but severe hallucinations. Of Holy Icons. Walking alone, perfectly calm and armed only with a pointy stick, in a 'hot' battlefield.

I jumped out of the window and raced towards the mentally cha…charming Anima of the Imperium walking along the street.

"Hotaru! What in His Name are you doing here?"

She looked a bit taken aback by my outburst, fiddling idly with a strain of her hair as she looked to the ground.

"In who's name? And…I… am walked?"

I was very envious of the multiple hearts an Astartes was equipped with in this moment and all but screamed.

"Walking?... In the Emperor's name, this is a war zone. An active battlefield. This is no place for a civilian…well, a Senshi….well, for anyone who is not duty bound to die a horrible, gruesome death in a futile struggle and a battle that no one cares about."

"But I am." Was the quiet, even reply, childish head coming up and eyes looking solemnly on me.

That threw me a bit of course, and I at least managed to bring my tone and breathing back under control. Finally managing to ground out a gruff: "What do you mean?"

"It is my duty to die, Cain."

Large, empathic eyes looked at me full of understanding, in a serene, peaceful face while the quiet, smooth voice crushed something inside me.

I…have seen death. I have sent people to death. I had seen children killed and slaughtered by aliens, Heretics, Daemons. But these words, cool, accepting…understanding. I do not know why they touched me this way. Maybe it was the tone. The understanding, soft voice. Or the young, young face with eyes so wise. Or it was simply the idea of someone I had revered in one form or the other for my whole life to just walk out and die…

"No. Hotaru, you can not do that. We need you."

My voice was firm, and I nearly grabbed her hand before I could collect myself. And we did indeed need here. An Anima of the Imperium…

"Know it. Here is why I am."

She nodded, still completely calm and at ease where I was scanning the houses, the empty caverns of the windows and gaping maws of streets for any potential assassin, traitor or monster that I had to tackle.

"You hurt."

She looked at my mangled leg, and well. She was right. I am no medic, but I was pretty sure I had at least sprained my knee, and the abrasions where the rockrete had cut away the leg of my envirosuit were not helping either.

"Me heal."

With a small step closer she put both her hands next to my damaged knee.

My breath stopped. Was I going to receive her Holy Power just like Jurgen had? Would I not only be touched by Divinity, but blessed, too? And truly, a soft glow enveloped her hands, and instantly the pain in my knee vanished. Not only my knee, also the small wounds in my leg and every single pain in my body, together with all exhaustion I had felt. I… It was a wonderful feeling. I had never felt so good. Well… there was this one time with Amberley…

"See. All better now."

She smiled up to me, and I could only wonder at Her Power.

I did not wonder for very long, because obviously my ears were healed, too. Enabling me to hear the crazed mass of charging zealots, cultists and overall madmen racing through the streets.

"Blood for the Blood God!"

"Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

"Kill….Kill…"

"MAIM!KILL!BURN!"

"Tooth's for the Tooth fairy!"

Some were crazier than others.

They were coming at us from one of the intersecting streets. And while their numbers did not exactly blot out the sun, their bodies managed quite well to fill the street. Weaving around axes, cleavers, tooth pliers, Las pistol and Emperor knows what.

"Warp be damned."

This time, I did grab the hand of the Anima and started to run in the other direction. I just hoped the Ecclesiarchy would never hear of this, else they might cut of my hand and use it as a Holy Relic.

Fortunately, I did not have to drag one of the Emperor's Daughters, she was willingly running with me once I started moving. And what was even better, she was keeping up with my vastly longer legs. At least she had dropped her stick somewhere along the way.

Chaos Cultists were sufficiently stupid by definition, but they were not blind and had spotted us in the open street quite readily. And while I had little doubt that I could outrun most of them under ordinary conditions (after all, I had practice with that), that did not take into account the effects of Slaught or whatever else that pushed them up.

"We need to lose them. Inside." I gasped out under my breath, pointing at one of the houses with an open door.

"Yes." And the Anima poured on the speed, actually overtaking me and entering the house. I stumbled in right behind her, and kicked the door closed. A quick glance showed me that barricading it would be a futile exercise. While there was a handy cupboard waiting for us, the two windows provided enough alternative entrances.

"We need to keep moving. Stay close to me." Where were stoic, silent red posts of Guardianship when you needed them? Or a couple of Baneblades, while we are at it.

We hastened through the floor. I didn't bother to pull my Las Pistol, forty or fifty to one or two wasn't really the kind of odds I wanted for any shooting.

At least when I was on the one or two side.

Instead I pushed open the doors we passed. I doubted that even Cultists would be put off our track by something like that, but every second I delayed them from putting a Las bolt or a big sharp thing in a vital part of my anatomy counted. Besides, maybe some of them had a bad sense of direction and got lost. It happens. I had seen it. There was this one guy…

The problem, or maybe not, with floors is that few of them are infinite. In that moment, I did consider it a problem. At least, we were on ground level and it ended with window. A closed window.

"Follow me!" Not looking for other options, I took a flying jump through the thankfully wide window, holding my arms in front of me and counting on my armoured envirosuit to protect me from being gutted like a man running from bloodthirsty Chaos Cultists jumping through a closed window head first. Fortunately, I was right.

Less fortunate was, that rockrete is hard; thus my landing was less than pleasant.

Light-footed, the Senshi landed next to me. I noted dumbly the high heels next to my face, before I climbed to my feet again.

Not good. We were fenced in, in some kind of backyard. Open yard, surrounded on three sides by two-story houses and one side with a fence as tall as I was.

Only one chance here. I put a hand on my Chain Sword and stepped forward.

"Stay back, …" Was as far as I got, before two thin, soft arms encircled my waist and then our Drop Ship took off.

At least it felt that way. In truth, we jumped. Well, the Anima jumped. With me. On the roof. Of a two story house. Carrying me.

I am not exactly a lightweight; I don't think even an Astartes could do that. Not without a Jump Pack. On the other hand… I looked at her again. I was pretty sure that the average Astartes outmassed her ten or fifteen to one. Without Power Armour.

Okay. I had other things to worry about now. Like getting my breath back. Believe me, jumping that way and being hold by small arms is not good for your stomach or lungs. Although I had felt no impact jarring me…

"SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

Ahhh, how it jarred.

Only with a desperate lunge I managed to get out of the way of the massive suit of armour that crashed down on us. And the Lightning Claws, that blew up a portion of the room. Somewhere, there was also a brutish Traitor Marine attached to them.

I tried to roll around and get my Chain Sword out in the same movement. I more or less managed to do it, but came to rest on my back.

Looking at one of the most heart wrenching sights I could imagine, the massive, and I am talking at least ten foot massive, form of a Berzerker of Khorne, Lightning Claws raised loomed above a small girl not even half his height, holding a stick made out of wood and blunt metal between them.

Poised defiantly between the Berzerker and me, shoulders squared.

From anyone else I would welcome that gesture and take my clue to quietly, quickly run away from the unstoppable machine of destruction, as fast as I could. Not from her.

But before I could shout, draw the Berzerker's attention to me or throw a pebble to get him to rush me he thrust downwards with his Claws, and fist the sizes of planet-killer meteors preluded by sharpened metal crashed down on the last hope of the Imperium of Man.

Only to connect soundlessly with dull silver, and stop.

Before I could even change my emotions from bowel-clenching terror and utter despair, the Senshi twisted her arms. The shaft of her weapon was hitting against the juggernaut's shank.

But the Chaos-deluded fool was a fighter without peer, and while he was probably more astonished than me that his attack had been blocked by this wisp of a girl, he had shifted his weight on said leg and sneered at the futility of the attack.

That was, till said futile attack knocked his leg aside and gravity reminded us that there is a saying about things that are bigger…

Even while the tainted Marine was in the air and falling, the Senshi had reversed the grip on her Glaive and brought it around, its dull edge cutting towards the armoured chest of the Heretic. Probably on reflex and less on threat assessment he threw his arm out and twisted in the air, out of the way of the blade, crashing heavily on the ground. To this day, I remember the expression on his face as the already Lightning Claw damaged roof gave way under Emperor knows how many tons of sin and armour.

All that had happened in less than a second, but already Las Blasts were arcing up towards the Senshi, while I was still in the process of getting back to my feet.

A long, and I mean loooong stride, took her over to me, and this time she grabbed me under my shoulders having dropped her weapon somewhere on the roof or else and jumped to the next roof. It wasn't far, a dozen meters or so if you are generous.

Finally getting back to my feet, I crouched down and ran over to the stairs leading inside the building. "We need to get away from them." I grunted out, the Senshi at my side.

"I WILL KILLLLLL YOU! YOU HEAR ME! YOUR SKULLLZ ARE MIINNNE!"

Someone was not happy with our recent escape. I did not stop to ask who, exactly.

Rarp'unh'oc jumps took him clear through a closed window, glass shattering and breaking against his hardened skin. Coming to his clawed feet again, he raced on, knowing that he could not stop now. He was a creature of Khorne, he exuded in slaughter, bloodshed and killing.

His brethren maybe dead but they had reaped a great killing under the pitiful humans daring to challenge them. Rarp'unh'oc just wished for one thing now.

That Khorne would have gifted him with faster legs as the door behind him was smashed and a dark behemoth rushed in the room, an avalanche of palpable anger preceding its way, the only light in the room gleaming from his mighty weapon. 'Oh Khorne, grant me faster legs. So that I may reach your enemies faster and slaughter them.'

The dying screeches of his brethren was still in his ears. He broke through a door without slowing down, taking five of the stairs at once as he raced up to the roof. 'Khorne, grant me wings so that I may dive at your enemies from above and slaughter them.'

With haste, he took in the surroundings of the roof. Feeling his Nemesis approaching, he did not hesitate and jumped over the narrow gap between buildings, the three meters not even close to a challenge for one such as him.

But like a dark avenger, his hunter followed him, clearing the gap as the Bloodletter had before. Still, almost feeling the pieces and fluids that had once been his Warband raining down on him, Rarp putted on a burst of speed. Filled by his desperation, he raced on, trying to increase the distance between them. 'Khorne, grant me stamina so that I may fight your enemies for eternities.' But like a dark cloud of destruction the armoured predator kept up, drawing nearer, closer.

Rarp could almost feel the heat of the weapon, coming closer and closer to his skin, lusting to part his flesh, to cut into his body, to rip apart his neck.

Seeing a chance, he smashed through a lid on another roof, descending, trying to loose the merciless reaper at his back, ducking out of sight. 'Khorne, grant me a cloth to cover under, so that I may strangle your enemies with it.'

But it should not be. As if the dark gods had conspired against Rarp, the dark lord did not stray from his path and with the unerringly precision of a nuke carrying missile curving towards the defenceless ground of a world, he descended upon him.

Roaring like a cornered rat, Rarp'unh'oc threw himself around, rushing at the wall of darkness looming before him. Only to flinch back when the gruesome weapon of the dark one took of his left underarm, sending a spike of agony to his brain and taking the kick of a massive boot to the face. Unearthly strong muscles or machines flattened his flesh, squeezed his organs and crunched his bones. He was barely aware of the air rushing past him as he crashed through the window and tumbled to the ground. 'Khorne, grant me new teeth so that I may…'

We were out of the direct line of fire, none of our pursuer's were in sight, and back on the ground, running through a room, trying to bring another couple of houses between us and the mob of crazies with their Primarch-sized Bloodthirster wannabe. Of course, I had forgotten something.

Like fighting in closed quarter of small rooms or corridors versus Berzerkers is not desirable. Especially if you barely escaped them only to have them simply crush through the wall to get at you. Yes, I should have remembered that.

Dust and debris blinded the raging near-Daemon of destruction, and I was fortunately, between him and the Anima, so I lunged at him with my Chain Sword. Only to have it strike nothing more than a shallow gash on its vambrace when I landed a powerful blow.

I wanted to look at my blade in betrayal, but was busy dodging the snake-fast slice of a Lightning Claw. Well, if the snake was on Slaught. And a fast snake.

I narrowly avoided a rather premature end of my carrier there, literally by the skin of my teeth. That guy was not only stupidly large and strong as the wall could attest too, he was also damn fast. Faster. I am no slouch in sword combat, but I could hardly see his movements.

The most I noticed of the deadly claw I had just dodged was how it struck in the wall next to me and fired its charge in it, blowing it apart.

Hitting me as much as the Chaos Marine, only one of us had the protection of tank-like armour, genetic manipulations and unnatural toughness. It was not me.

I was blown to the side, chunks of wall hitting me rather painful and driving the breath out of my lungs.

The Senshi stepped past me, still weaponless, promptly having to dodge the follow up swipe of the traitor, and give ground as he just shrugged and pulverized some wall restricting him.

With a mighty yell, he drove his arm down, intend on cutting her down, but she teleported inside his strike. Instead of being sliced to ribbons and pulverised by the Lightning Detonation she merely took a couple of dozen pounds plasteel armour, flesh and bones on her shoulder, powered by muscles that casually crumbled walls. She went down with the hit.

But her hands were already raised and she thrust them out even as she did fall down. A purple sphere of light, as big as my head streaked out of her hands and hit the mountain of flesh, plasteel and unholy power in the chest.

He flew backwards, and a split second later I heard a detonation. Not like a grenade, or artillery shell. Well, I have no clue what it sounded like, but I didn't really care either.

"Quickly. Alive still is he."

I pulled myself out of the wall, grabbed my trusty Chain Sword and ran on, already hearing the howling Cultists bearing down on our necks. If the Senshi could ignore being crushed by a blow powerful enough to put a Squiggoth down I could ignore being blasted in a wall. My body did not agree with me.

Some days, it really did not pay to get out of your bunk.

"….hnnnNNN." That had actually hurt…That bitch. He would kill her! He stood up, and promptly broke down again as the over strained remains of his muscles ruptured under the stress, in a mess of torn ligaments and blood. As soon as he could back up. He would KILLLLLL that bitch. KILLLL.

"You hear me?...KILLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"

Wrenching the Power Blade out of the head of the fallen Daemon, Colonel Radev rose again, stepping out of the pool of blood the slowly dissolving body left on the ground before it soiled his cape. The detour had taken him away from his lines and he checked up on the position of his forces via HUD. Fortunately, they were all arrayed correctly, considering the heavy resistance and he found little reason for further discipline and encouragement. The familiar rumble of the Executor sounded from a parallel street.

Feeling a presence, the lone PDF Colonel turned around.

Casting him in his shadow, a gigantic form towered above him. A massive chest covered by brass armour, body rippling with muscles, wings wide enough to carry a tank in the air, a horned head with cruel, blood crazed eyes and topped with horns, one massive fist carrying a coiling whip of living fire while the other wielded a great axe capable of splitting war-machines and buildings apart in a single stroke.

*hiss*

"Impressive."

*hiss*

The only sound one could hear on the field was coming from the speakers of a defect sound system, blasting out the tunes of the last song it was set to. The deep bass and electronic guitar sounds filled the air as heavy metal boomed through the street.

Our situation had not considerably improved.

We were still being hunted down by a mob of followers of a depraved, blood crazed evil god and something that had absolutely no business hunting an ordinary human like me. Couldn't he go and pick on someone his size? Surely, there must be some fallen Primarchs, Greater Daemons or something in the Eye of Terror.

If all else failed, I would have been happy to give him the address of the next Grey Knight Grandmaster with entourage. Alas, I didn't stop to ask.

I was more concerned with getting air in my lungs, burning from the constant sprinting. We were out now on the open, running along a street between halls of warehouses or whatever they might be.

The Cultists were purely shooting in the air when they saw us, not even attempting to hit, but I tried to change streets as much as possible, no need to give them ideas.

Actually, I had an idea now. We passed a turned over air car, crumbled and crushed from some fall. Two dozen steps later, I stopped and whirled around.

"Cain? What doing are you?"

The Anima had stopped half a dozen steps later, which fitted my plan rather well, looking confused at me.

"Watch and learn, young one. It takes more than an overgrown grox herder to bring a Commissar of the Imperium down." I said, projecting all the confidence I could muster, and then some.

Said overgrown grox herder, if you mixed in the killing intent of the average Ork Waaaagh and enough plasteel to make a tank and having leftovers, rounded the corner.

"Yes. Stop running. Accept your fate and give me your SKUUULLZ."

I would have liked to sprout a pithy one liner here. But I was a shoddy replacement for an Action Hero and nothing came to mind. So I just raised my Las Pistol and fired. At the pool of Promethium leaking out of the crashed air car.

The resulting fireball was most satisfying.

At least I thought so. Sadly, the Chaos Berzerker had another opinion. Now, normally I do not mind the opinion of people I have just blown up with enough yield to make a dozen frak grenades look like firework, but normally, said people are also resting in pieces.

While there were quite some pieces of cursed flesh raining down around us, burning and smelling nearly as bad as Jurgen, the hulking caricature of a human was still standing.

Grinning. Laughing. Burning. That was just not fair. How in the Emperor's Name was I supposed to take something like that down? Conveniently supplied Vortex Missiles aside.

Even as I was watching, the literally burning and smelting flesh was rekniting itself and the bones were completely intact. Stubbornly I fired half a dozen Las pistol shots in his face and chest. The bolts burned away an insignificant further amount of flesh, and glanced completely off the bones.

Okay, I could take a hint. I turned around and run, dragging the horrified looking Anima with me. That had really not been an overly pleasant view, all in all. Burning flesh, blistering and blackening under heat and fire only to become rosy again and bubble together to a new mass even while it still burned and fell again….together with the smell; well, you get the picture. Rest assured, I was pretty glad I had not eaten anything in the past hours.

The laughter of the … whatever it was supposed to be followed us, and I proposed to try that again. As soon as I found a Baneblade. Or something similar.

Errtu, the Bonegrinder, roared. He had sensed the mortals invading the city he had taken, stepping into the trap he had laid out for them.

And he had sensed her. Drawing closer, arriving. Soon. Soon he would take her skull and spill her blood. Grind her bones. And he would crush the pathetic being accompanying her, who had defied them so often, who was a mockery of all what Khorne symbolized.

But his blood was boiling, the familiar frenzy running through his body. Hurry. Hurry. HURRY!

He could barely wait for them to step on the altar of their killing…

He would not wait. He sensed a delicious battle close by. Not a worthy foe, not for him. But something… to play with. To entertain him, before he utterly crushed, maimed, burned it!

A single slap of his mighty wings carried him in the air, and like the Daemon of Destruction he was, he descended on his target. The simple, black clad human. Holding his feeble Power Sword. Good. He was not running.

Although the strange sounds permeating were annoying.

Errtu made a note to find the hidden Sound Marines later and slaughter them.

I ducked down, and then stumbled through the newly opened door, courtesy of the multi-hundred pound bust a certain nightmarish fellow had thrown after us.

And cursed. Aren't warehouses usually full of crates, huge, ominous machines and various things you could hide behind or take cover?

Not that I had much hope for hiding, the rapidly healing death mower behind us had kept up through all hooks and faints I could bring to bear. No doubt he had some warpspawned way to detect us. And probably a dozen Battleships or whatever to take us down should we find anything useful.

I pushed on, running across the open warehouse, to the back wall. I could see a door there, and got ready to blast the lock with my Las pistol.

Unfortunately, I am quite a good sprinter. And long distance runner. Comes with the habit of running away from any danger that jumps me. That meant I could develop quite a good speed on open terrain and keep ahead of pretty much anyone that hunted me.

Anyone did not include multi-ton behemoth's of flesh, anger and infernal warp energy.

I could only jump forward in the last instant as a fist thundered towards my back that could probably harm a dreadnaught. As in beat silly, tear apart and put in a cinder box way of harming.

A blow like a Capital Ship on ramming action hit my back and despite nearly blackening out, I had the fortune of enjoying free flight without any mechanical help. I flew for at least twenty meters before I crashed down and tumbled head over heel across the rockrete.

It did hurt less than you might imagine, at least the tumbling. At that point, my back was quite literally smashed and I did not feel anything below my waist line. The rest did hurt like warp, though.

Groggily, I tried to turn my head and lifted my Las pistol, which I had clamped on in a death grip. The bio-titan curled his lips in what no one in the vicinity of three sectors could have called a smile.

"Killlllllll."

"Hota..ru..run. I… catch up."

I managed to groan. I don't think anyone would believe that, but then…

I was also fairly sure she didn't hear me at all. At least she showed no reaction as she stepped in the path of Abbandon's big brother.

Her glaive gripped in a hand, holding herself as upright as the weapon, feet slightly apart she was truly a sight to behold. Majestic, full of dignity and a determination I could feel even in my slightly inconvenienced state.

"You. Not hurt will anyone again."

While it was a majestic sight and truly inspiring, if I had to be honest, I could not help but to look past her.

At the battleship-grade ground unit that was moving with the light gait of a sextapuma towards her, Lightning Claws extended and crackling with power, a piece of Black Carapace showing through skin. Together with the completely unmarred skin, despite the Power Armour now only hanging in pieces on the ludicrous sized frame was a sight as damming as an affair with a member of the Inquisition. In theory, that is. [*ahem*]

"No. No mere hurting. KILL! CRUSH! MAIM! SKUUUULLLZZZ!"

Even while shoulder mounted Hellguns threw powerful Las Bolts, the elemental force of brute strength had pushed forward, slipping around the bolts with an agility absolutely nothing that outmassed the average mountain should posses and rammed its claws towards the girl.

Like the wonder that her sheer presence on this world was, she actually parried the attack again.

What then followed was a blur before my eyes, and not only due to the not inconsiderable pain I was in at the moment. I had seen Astartes fight before. Leaving me with a faint amount of awe and a much larger amount of terror. Skill of countless battles, lightning fast reflexes like no living thing should have, strength that was ludicrous. But never like this.

That was a completely other level, a whirlwind of destruction. Some people may describe it as beautiful as a dance, poetry in motion. If said poetry had enough power behind it to wrack your average armoured regiment alone with collateral damage you are coming pretty close I believe. I could actually hear cracks of displaced air…

And suddenly, it was over. Just like that. Both gods of battle had frozen.

The Glaive of the Senshi was sticking out of a back broad enough to double as a shuttle platform. Slowly, the titanic body slid from the Blade. With a shock that rattled the whole building the sparring partner of Bloodthirsters fell down.

The Senshi stood perfectly still.

Serene.

Silent.

Slowly, the world faded before my eyes.

I came back to the same dark and bloody world in what felt only moments later.

My first view of the world was actually fairly nice considering the circumstances. The concerned face of a young girl hanging over me, my head bedded on her lap and not inconsiderable assets in my field of view.

Then I leapt to my feet and erased a never again to be mentioned line of thought with Promethium. And a Volcano Cannon.

"Oh me happy you better, Cain. Me worried."

A soft, tender voice spoke, cheeks faintly coloured, still kneeling and looking up to me. My mental Volcano Cannon fired again.

"Ahh…ahh… I am…fine. Thank you."

And I felt fine. More than fine, actually. My coat was in tatters, and armour scrapped. Well, the armour on my back was completely smashed, but I felt great. Nothing ached, nothing hurt, no lingering tiredness.

The mighty thunder of a truly, truly big gun shook everything around us. We exchanged a glance and came to an instant understanding.

Or so I thought. She must have understood me completely wrong, why else would she run exactly towards the sound?

I hesitate to remember the following situation. To this day, it has only be alluded to in official reports and documentations. All attempts to uncover the truth or find out the precise facts have been 'squeezed' to an unfortunate end. Under risk for life and limb I will write down what I believe to have perceived that day. (Today, I am wearing a collarless shirt.)

When we stumbled upon the scene, it was a war zone. More like that. It was a war zone ravaged by a Bloodthirster of Khorne, a super heavy 'Baneblade' tank and forces beyond any comprehension.

The ground was carved up, streets smashed, buildings carrying great gouges made from a daemonic axe, chunks of rockrete massing tons thrown around like crumps of bread, enough debris to serve as cover for three full strength Guard regiments, fires lingering in the background and skeletal fingers of broken plasteel raised up in the air.

The Executor, a dark blue 'Baneblade', one of the Imperium's finest tanks was covered in rubble and dust, the main barrel of the plasma gun glowing red and partially molten. Around it where the remains of a decent sized house. Judging from the debris there was only one possibility. The tank had driven 'through' the house.

We heard a raspy, laboured voice and for once, I understood the breathing problems.

Deep gashes in black armour, dark fluid that had to be blood dripping freely, a torn, shredded and burning cape, not even standing five meters away from the Bloodthirster.

The gigantic Daemonic beast, a being of rage and bloodlust so pure that I could feel it from here roared on the ground, trashing the street further with its flailing limbs and even as I watched, the massive, still smoking hole in its lower back closed over, recovering, healing.

"*Hiss*…you will *hiss* follow my orders, commander *hiss* or you will face *hiss* consequences. *hiss* I repeat *hiss* drive *hiss* directly towards my position *hiss*"

And with the rumbling of powerful engines, the Baneblade surged forwards. Accelerating, moving its massive bulk of Emperor knows how many tons.

With a horrid squelching sound and a terrible yowl it came to a stand.

On top of the twitching form of the Bloodthirster, which grabbed and twisted for a hold.

"*hiss* Acceptable, commander."

With determined, purposeful steps the black armoured figure strode forward under my gaping gaze, dripping 'blood' on the ground, cape still burning…and rammed the glowing Power Sword deep in the forehead of the Daemon.

It roared louder, the force nearly knocking me off my feet from twenty meters away, redoubling its efforts to get one massive arm in a position to push against the Baneblade.

*hiss*

"Impressive."

*hiss*

"Most impressive."

*hiss*

A small figure detached from my side in complete silence, no noise sounding when her boots touched the ground.

Clad in a dark skirt and white body suit, the small girl strode forward and came to a stand before the towering form of the dark knight. With a grave nod, the Lord of the HITS stepped aside.

A silver blade cut down.

Scratching the throat of the warp spawned nightmare. Instantly, its howling and trashing stopped. A small drop of blood appeared in the wound.

Silence.

Except for that damnable music booming somewhere in the background.

I decided to the warp with my disbelief, and walked towards both quite disparate figures.

"Now, that was a nice days work, I would say."

Looking back, I can say that I never learned to keep my mouth shut.

"Oh, indeed it has. But it is far from being concluded… Although for you, it is indeed all over."

I had heard many malevolent voices and biting tones, delighting in the pain and displeasure they bring to you, as anyone who has ever dealt with the Administratum.

But this was one of the worst. Rising from a patch of shadows was a malformed figure, not hideous, strangely…appealing. Garbed in a flowing, pink robe, with bits of armour showing at the chest, an arm that was little more than a gigantic claw and skulls resting on poles crossing on its back the…man was nonetheless a being of perfect beauty, alluring and mesmerizing.

What was even more concerning were the dozens upon dozens of runic circles that flared to live around us, shining of eldritch energy and spilling out the energies of the warp, its denizens howling behind the boundaries for our very souls.

"*hiss* Colonel Soudisi *hiss*Activate Gellar Field.*hiss*

I was completely floored at the words, but I didn't mind the fact that nearly all of the circles fickled out of existence… Emperor's Go…Goodness.

I hand no time to ponder anything or stand around in bafflement, because unfortunately, not all circles had vanished. Something with far too many limps, claws, maws and assorted horrors jumped at me.

"What? What! That can not be… What did you d"*Dakka…Dakka…DakkaDakkaDakka DakkaDakkaDakka*

I spun to the left and sliced my sword at the thing's side, even while Hellgun fire burned it.

While Lord Radev had raised his left arm and his storm bolter rounds smashed the head of the Sorcerer. Walking towards him he lowered his aim, blasting apart the chest.

The beast that had passed me crashed to the ground and dissolved, while I heard the 'Whoosh' of a flamer as the Dark Lord cleansed away the rest of his enemy.

The Senshi Saturn was at my side, Hellgun barrels still glowing on her shoulders and another beast cleaved in two by her Glaive.

That was, when we heard a wet squelching noise and dripping right next to us.

I didn't want to, but nonetheless, I did turn around. Coming face to…whatever, with one of the most repugnant things I had ever seen in my life. And I have once seen the inside of Jurgen's bunk.

A thing, a twisting mass of thick, slimy tentacles dripping with goo filled the street. A sheer sense of wrongness and an aura of Slaaneshi Contamination like I had never felt before hung in the air. Twisting and turning the tentacles reached out, crept closer to Saturn, her skirt billowing in an unseen breeze, the tentacles stretching, swelling…

"Silence Glaive…Surprise"

With a fast, precise movement the Senshi brought her Glaive half way down, cutting the air in front of her.

A …gap appeared in the city.

It did not spread, it simply was there. The street was gone. The buildings next to it were gone. The buildings behind the street were gone. A path, hundreds of meters long and more three dozen meters wide had formed. Only blank, clear earth remained. No Daemon, no rockrete, no plasteel. Just….empty plain.

"I…I am sorry…it felt so…dirty. I felt threatened."

I nodded, and backed away. Slowly.


	11. Chapter 10

Fire flickered in the darkness, flames burning bright and hot, casting their light in the gloom, keeping the shadows at bay. But they were small. They were shrinking, slowly dying out. Shadows stretched, retook the territory so rightfully theirs. Darkness claimed the light, choking out the life of fire. Soon, the fire would die.

Above, the unnatural forces of the Warpstorm cast their eerie, strange light on the dark world. Lifting shadows, weakening them, breaking them. But its power was waning, declining. The Warpstorm withered, and soon it would be gone.

The stars themselves, cosmic balls of hot plasma and near infinite energy burned bright in the night sky.. Banishing the Dark, sending their light, casting the shadows away. Only small points of light in the eternal night, diminishing away. Their power, the power of the suns, warring against which was meant to be. Defying what was the ultimate outcome.

But they, too, would falter and surrender. Soon, they would die.

And it would be night again.

Silence.

As it had been. As it should be. As it would be.

Very soon.

A small, fragile hand caressed a dark shaft; a spark of silver gleamed in the last of lights.

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison**

While it may not be a divine smell, the smell of strong, hot recaf that teased my nose as I slowly drifted to awareness was more than welcome. Especially together with the certain foreknowledge that it surely came accompanied with fresh, warm bread. Reminding myself to find a reason to recommend Jurgen for a decoration, maybe 'Thoughtfulness at the Breakfast Table' I opened my eyes. And squeezed them shut hastily.

"Rev…Hotaru! What…are you doing here? In my quarters?" I screeched. In a manly way.

While I usually believe the Emperor has better things to do than watching me, the moments were I was actively praying He might please not look my way were rare. This was one of those moments.

"Me sorry. Please, Cain no be mad. Me just bringing Dinner. Morning dinner. Not want to waking. No sneaky enough. Sorry."

The voice was fast, panic stricken and even higher pitched than usual; ending in a mournful sounding sigh. It make me wince, and I am not talking about the pinch here.

Still, that was not the kind of voice I wanted to hear in my bed chamber, ever.

I carefully opened one eyelid and peaked out. Despite my best hopes, it had not worked and she was still there. Standing in my quarters, holding a tray with various breakfast dishes, in the movement of putting it down on a table.

Having discarded Her Holy Garb, she was now wearing a rather plain and simple outfit of subdued colours. While I would never dare to comment or even critique upon the Holy Battle Garb Divinity may wear, I could not help but wonder who had provided her with an ordinary skirt almost as short as her original one.

Since my latent powers of teleportation were still very much latent to my dismay, I had no choice. I grabbed my blanket and pulled it up to my chin, opened my eyes fully and looked at the Anima of the Imperium. In my bedroom.

"Hotaru, erm, please. You can't…, well you can, but you shouldn't. Not that I am ordering you… what I mean is. I do not think that this is befitting of our corresponding stations. There might be… people…" Inquisitors, Priests, just about every loyal human in the Imperium of Man, and quite a few others, too "Who might think it is unseemly for you to come visit me this way…"

In Her Father's Name! I would get enough cross eyed looks if a girl her age visited me in my bed chamber, no matter her identity. One of the people giving me said looks would be myself. Considering her actually parentage and circumstances, I would get these looks too. Together with enough Holy Bolt rounds, cleansing flames of promethium and big, faithful plasma blasts to make Abbadon the Defiler a good man.

While she was quite a slight girl, her attempts to hid behind a tray loaded with breakfast were not particular successful. Not for the lack of trying, tough.

"Ohh…me understand? Cain officer. Me need appointment?" She suddenly peaked up, her face brightening in supposed understanding.

I have you know that I can do a quite impressive imitation of a Carramalian Flatfish on land. Which I decided to practice right now. Somehow, a couple of the unholy gods of the warp must have sneaked behind me. Necause the Shining Light of Faith, who had stood unyieldingly against a raging Chosen of Chaos and a Bloodthirster of all things was cringing away from me.

"Me sorry… Cain no angry, please? Me going…sorry"

Placing the try on a nearby table with a careful movement, the girl quickly turned around and fled the room, something shimmering in her eyes. Serenity's Mercy. What had just happened there?

I jumped out of my bed, draped my great coat around me and raced out of my bedroom.

My office was empty, no sign of any blessed Daughter's of the Emperor. Running away from me in distress.

I sat down heavily on the next surface I could find. The small filing cabinet groaned under me, and I joined in. So this was how a dead man felt. I had never wanted to find out.

By the time I had collected myself and was operational again, recaf and breakfast had grown cold. Since neither a company of storm troopers, a squadron of red guardians nor a certain Bloodthirster poking Colonel had broken down the door to my office and executed me in the most painful manner possible, I assumed that for some reason mortals were not meant to understand, the Anima had not yet told anyone about my Heresy.

Considering my options, I concluded that I could as well spend my last minutes alive working. Maybe the Emperor would show mercy when I was commanded to him. Improbable, given the circumstances, but that was only hope right then.

Shifting my focus, I once again discovered, that one of the nasty details of my life was having to do more work than usual after my latest attempts at staying alive. Instead of having earned the right to rest for the next two or three decades, which I would have considered more fitting. Even worse, while a successful battle and campaign was always a plus, as was, more importantly, my continued survival, protocols demanded that we hold an after action analysis of the operation and everything entailed. Pesky military routine and things like that.

I was not looking forward to said meeting and analysis. Not only because of this morning events, but what I had seen that dark and bloody day…

Now, under the harsh light of the morning I was not sure what I had seen.

Actually, to be honest, I was pretty sure what I had seen but I did not want to remember it. Is that so hard to grasp?

After getting fully dressed, I shuffled the dataslates on my desk around. Jurgen, Princess blessed soul that he now was, had already come over and taken the more routine aspects of my work with him and was busy delaying and redirecting, I mean, filing various important reports that I would address later. Much later. If they were persistent.

Still, after a major engagement like this, especially the coordination and socialising with completely new units, left me with quite a bit of workload.

But I had something important to do first.

Reaching out, I grabbed my dataslate and opened up my personal notes.

'Do not annoy Colonel Radev.'

Followed by

'Do not make Senshi Saturn feel scared. Ever.'

'And get a lock for the bedroom door.'

Satisfied that I had fulfilled my most pressing needs for today, I breathed a sigh of relief.

My most recent panic had subsided, and I was now considering I might actually live through the day. Apparently, in Her endless mercy, the Anima had decided to spare an unworthy soul like me.

After a long sip of recaf I briefly considered going through the work on my desk, but decided against it. I felt I had earned a brief break. A month or two maybe.

Suddenly remembering the last time I had made a short break and went for a little walk accompanied by light conversation, I hastily reached out and grabbed the first dataslate on the pile. There where certain things that had to be avoided, at all costs.

Their were remarkable few incidents of 'morale unbefitting to a servant of His Holy Majesty' to be found concerning the Valhallans, especially if you kept in mind that we had assaulted a Chaos controlled and heavily Daemon infested city. With which I had still trouble coming to grasp.

If I really wanted to stick with the rules and follow the book, I, in my capacity as the resident Commissar of His Holy Majesty, should have gone over the morale status and fighting spirit of the local PDF, too. I decided to nail said book to the next Chaos Chosen I encountered and send him in the direction of said PDF. Half a dozen Inquisitors would have had trouble to get me to deal with Colonel Radev and Soudisi regarding morale concerns. And I am not exaggerating there.

Actually, the most pressing concerns in the reports I received were about troopers being 'too' faithful. Yes, exactly. After the newest…'guest' that was harboured in our current base of operations had become common knowledge, some people had decided that time spend before on drill and duties was now better spend on praying and studying religious texts. Or constructing small altars depicting a certain young girl that was sleeping right next to my room and had served me breakfast today.

I had visions of white armoured Valhallan's carrying flamers in combat, firm in their belief that Her Hand protected them. I doubted that anyone would be pleased if our troopers encroached on the terrain of the Adeptus Sororitas, least of all, me.

It was probably not surprising anyone that the Imperial Cult actually allowed, and even encouraged, the active veneration of His Divine Majesty's no less Divine Daughters, as long as His Divine's Majesty's absolute authority was recognized. A practice that had become decreasingly less popular, except for some small parts of the Imperial Guard and Senshi Jupiter; and of course, the Adeptus Sororitas, the ever faithful Guardians of the Firstborn Daughter, and deliverers of Her Holy Wrath against all Chaos-touched.

What was surprising, on the other hand, was the 'lively discussion' between several regimental chaplains and priests regarding the precise practice of Her worship and the person best suited to guide the faithful in Her name. Numerous chainsaws had been confiscated.

There were also rumours about adding a new Saint to Her Holy Pantheon, but the reports I had access to did not give any details.

Nonetheless, while our fighting spirit was certainly not suffering, daily routines and operations were deteriorating, especially in the second company. I was not looking forward to talk to Captain Sulla about that. There were rumours about a Hymn being worked on and several banners, but honestly. I just tried to get away when that kind of talk came up. Besides, people were giving me funny looks when they started to talk about it. World's with an average temperature above the freezing point seemed to have some unforeseen long-time consequences on a select few Valhallan's.

Working on my cunning plan to get someone else to deal with Sulla I got up and made my way over to the briefing room. While I had expected some kind of lingering effects of the horror filled day I had just suffered through, I was actually perfectly fine and in obscenely good health, health too good to have fooled anyone and to dodge out of the meeting.

I pondered if it was actually so bad to be a feared, despised commissar. At least Colonel Kasteen would not have minded me dodging out of some meetings, then. On the other hand, the reduced probability that the next friendly fire accident report would be filed under 'C' made up for it very nicely.

Having half expected it, I was not too surprised to see a couple of red towers erected next to the door of our briefing room.

Getting presented with a genescan box, I was greeted with a mechanic sounding:

"Please Identify yourself."

I rolled my eyes, but decided to get it over with and pressed my thumb on the pad.

"Identity confirmed. You may enter." Where did the PDF find these guys? Or were they all just masquerading Servitors ?

"And a good day to you, too." That was as far as I was willing to go for riling them up. Stoic or not, annoying the guys with the guns and the authority to use them had never been my top priority.

As usual, I was the last to enter. The duties of a Commissar are quite time consuming, if anyone was to ask me. Hesitantly I took my place at the conference table, only able to choose between the sitting right next to Sacred Anima and facing her directly. Sitting down, I quickly answered her hesitant glance to me with a quick smile that caused her to hastily avert her eyes and her cheeks to redden. Desperately, I wiped the smile from my face and focused on the hololith. I wished for a standard model, with a more flickering, grainy image to provide better cover.

"Hereby I start the joint meeting of the 1. Royal Saturnian Guard and the 597th Valhallan's."

I stared incredulously at him. Well, I wasn't about to argue with the PDF Colonel, but it was 'unusual' for a unit to be renamed without authorization of the Administratum.

"The recently undertaken joint mission to liberate the city of Hades Prime and bring it back under Imperial control is hereby deemed a success. Enemy forces were routed, and all tactical objectives achieved. Casualties within the Valhallan's were minimal, and acceptable with the 1st RSG."

"…there are no acceptable casualties…" the small voice drifted through the room, breaking the monologue of the scariest servitor I had ever encountered.

"Exalted Anima? How may we serve?" The grey haired colonel performed a half bow in the direction of the regal figure sitting between her guardians. She averted her eyes, mumbling softly.

"Forgive intrusion, Colonel. Please, continuing."

"As you wish, your Majesty. At this moment, only single individuals or small groups below squad strength remain in Hades Prime; our currently deployed forces are estimated to remove any enemy influence within the next 72 hours. The contaminated zone is cordoned off, and the extra-material body has been moved to a secure facility."

I perked up at that, risking a glance at the Senshi. Her head was bowed, and she was flexing her hands. According to her comments shortly after the… incident, no one was supposed to enter the area affected by her attack for the next ten days. After that, the danger would have passed. While I was not planning to test it anyways, she had not given any specific reasons, and well, it was kind of hard to interrogate an evasive Holy Icon.

"So… the Daemon's body has still not dissolved?" Colonel Kasteen asked with concern in her voice.

"No, and preliminary analysis show no sign of progressing degeneration of bio-matter or basic molecular structures." Servitor, I knew it. He had spent too much time with the Tech Priests, I was sure of it.

"Isn't that kind of unusual? I am no expert for Greater Daemons that is for sure, but shouldn't their bodies go back to the warp, like all others?... I mean… it is dead, is it?" Kasteen looked positively spooked now, and I could not suppress a shiver when I thought about this horrific beasts raising again and killing everyone on the planet. Including me. One person in the room was looking eager, despite a mechanical faceplate. You get no guesses who.

"Silenced is it. Daemon gone. Death." Okay. It was possible to get a more emotionless voice than the average PDF colonel. No. Not emotionless. Bleak.

We waited anxiously if anymore of an explanation was coming forth, but the Senshi was looking through the hololith again, somewhere. I had no idea what she was seeing, and frankly, I had no desire to find out.

"Indeed. Artisan Leveb Kemesill has assured me that the body shows no sign of any activity and all possible precautions are taken. The project is under oversight of one of his most trusted subordinates, Gonde Iraki."

I tensed, as my hands started to twitch like nothing before. I could not help but ask

"Would it not be…prudent, to destroy the body? As soon as possible?"

A curt nod was my answer

"Of course, Commissar, as soon as all necessary preparations are met and the data extracted, the body will be disposed of." The twitching in my hands did not stop, but I had little else to go on.

"It would be of interest for said data, how exactly said body was brought down. Indicating from Imperial reports, extra-material entities of the 'Bloodthirster' classification deserve a considerable threat assessment."

Every eye in the room was focussing on me. Well, I was not sure about the eyes behind the visors, but aside from them I was without a doubt the centre of attention. Emperor… they had to be kidding me.

"I was just arriving there…when everything was over. You could say I had nothing to do with it at all… the revered Senshi killed the Bloodthirster!" I hurried to explain.

"*hiss*… to be precise *hiss*… the illustrious Senshi *hiss*….did only deliver *hiss* the coup de grace *hiss* …after the enemy was *hiss* …squashed *hiss*.

I stared dumbly at the dark form. Frakhead. There was no way anyone…

Again, everyone focussed on me, and Kasteen didn't even attempt to hide her amused, but faintly awed smile.

"Well… it seems our Commissar continues to amaze us."

Major Broklaw nodded, looking very pleased despite his gruff face.

"I think we have found another highlight of our regimental tradition."

Emperor and Princess. That couldn't be happening. Desperately, I called out.

"Wait a moment. Honestly, I had nothing at all to do with that. I was just doing my duty…"

According to the understanding nods around the table, my words had just condemned me. Do not get me wrong. I do enjoy certain advantages that my reputation gives. But Cain, Hero of the Imperium and Vanquisher of Bloodthirsters was most certainly not the way I wanted my reputation to go. I saw even more missions filled with brain-numbing, bowel-clenching terror coming my way.

After a minute of even more undeserved admiration than usual projected at me from all sides, Major Broklaw brought the meeting back on track. I resolved to get him a bottle of the good amesac for the next Emperor's Day.

"But what I am still wondering; the reports are quite clear that a heretical sorcerer, a worshipper of one of the ruinous powers, probably Slaanesh, appeared and attempted to summon even more Daemonic forces onto the battlefield. But you gave order to activate a Gellar Field?"

With disbelief in his voice raising towards the end, Broklaw expressed our feelings well.

Everyone who had ever travelled in a Starship knew what a Gellar Field was, or at least, everyone who was at least the slightest bit interesting in not being ripped apart by a random horror that populated the warp like. But you didn't really expect to run into said Field in the average Imperial City.

Colonel Soudisi raised an eyebrow. Yet, his voice still had no modulation.

"I might point out that I mentioned I would 'prepare adequate countermeasures for Slaneeshi attempts to stop our offensive'."

Yes, I remembered him saying something along these lines, or more accurately, the shiver that had went down my spine at that moment. But what in the Emperor's Name did that mean?

It seemed Colonel Kasteen shared my line of thought.

"Well, yes, but… what exactly did you do?" She was not bothering to cover her bewilderment.

"I simply conferred with Artisan Kemesill, and ordered him to develop a counter measure against further extra-materiel influence. Unfortunately, he was only able to come up with a limited short term countermeasure. Modifications to the IBCARSPOP system enabled us to produce a short term Gellar Field that would inhibit all extra-materiel manifestation within the affected area. The limitations are mainly founded in the extreme power output needed to create a Gellar Field inside an atmosphere as well as the need for prepared projection appliances. Furthermore, the Gellar Field can be overcome by simple using more power for any attempted extra-materiel transfer. It was only intended to take the initiative away from the enemy and unbalance them. The strategy was a success."

I hadn't really understood much from what he had told us and from the looks of it, neither had my comrades. To my amazement our resident subject of worship spoke up, in a distracted voice.

"Yes. Ami once calculated the energy requirements for a permanent planetary Gellar Field to keep out all but the strongest Daemonic Incursions as completely exorbitant. As well as the side effects of a permanent Gellar Field in normal space…"

I really needed time to read up on my High Gothic, I had maybe understood one word out of five from that. Something about orbital Daemons? Permanently calculating? Well… Daemons circling over one's head and permanently sprouting equitation's at you did sound bad, indeed. But I was not entirely sure she had really meant that.

"Interesting. Do you wish to discuss this topic in depth with the Artisan, oh Sacred One?"

Was the neutral reply in the same language.

Blinking, the Senshi shook her head and looked at Soudisi, stammering a few words in High Gothic that sounded like a denial and an excuse to me.

"Of course, revered Senshi. Then I guess we can conclude this meeting, with the parting outlook that astropath communication will probably be available again in 72 hours, and we should formulate a strategy for our future proceedings."

Well, he was back in a language I could at least understand, but I kinda wished I didn't.

Strategy for future proceedings. I had to be really careful, else I might end up in a stasis field and displayed as an example for the healing powers of the Imperium's Anima's or something.

From the looks of it, Kasteen and Broklaw had no clue how to formulate their reports either.

The oversight of the Administratum to make a standard form available that covered the rediscovery and reawakening of an ancient legend and the partaking Holy Event that kinda contradicted the official Imperial Cult was really grating these days.

Not being satisfied to brood on their own, the senior command staff of the 597th Valhallan's had decided to brood together. And for some unfathomable reasons, both had invited me to join them, too. Never been one to reject the invitation of a high ranking officer, well, at least not of one's I liked, I had joined them in the impromptu gathering. Located in Major Broklaw's quarters we studied each other, hoping to find a sign that one of us had a clue how the frak we should handle the situation.

Finally, Broklaw broke filled the room with his baritone.

"Considering what, or better, whom we found, it should be our top priority to inform the highest authorities as quickly as the Warpstorm is gone. With the clearances we have, we can send a high priority message to sector command and hope they take it up to Segmentum Command. From there on, it is out of our hands, if we like it or not."

Kasteen nodded, but looked at me contemplative.

"Yes, that's the most we can do for the short time, but what you, Ciaphas? Using some of your contacts, maybe getting a message to Lord General Zyvan. He could certainly speed along a message to Segmentum Command. Maybe… maybe even to Terra. With the recent jump in activity around the Eye of Terror, regimental priority messages are not exactly rare."

I gave both of them a shrewd look.

"I am not so sure that is the best course of action."

Both looked at me, confused. But I could see their brains working, pondering.

"What do you mean, Cain? You mean we 'shouldn't' report what is probably the greatest discovery since…. Since the time of the Primarchs themselves?"

I leaned slightly forward, tipping them off to how tense I was.

"Think about it. You have seen the Holy Anima. What do you know about her?"

Kasteen gave me a careful glance, hesitating before she answered.

"Well; you had the most contact with her, Ciaphas. It was you, who found her, it was you who accompanied her in Hades Prime. But from what I have seen… She is a gentle, spirit, an Anima of the Imperium. She… well, if I am honest I don't understand Her at times. But we are mere mortals, we are not meant to understand Divinity."

Broklaw joined in, having caught a glimpse at what I was hinting.

"She is… different, isn't She? I admit… I am a soldier. I have never thought much about the Anima. Besides Senshi Jupiter, of course, who's thunder our guns deliver. But the Senshi Saturn. She certainly is the gentle, holy spirit of an Anima. But… is she too gentle? Her tears…"

Hearing someone else voice at least a part of my concerns was a relief. I nodded grimly.

"Yes. And it is more than that. Senshi Saturn is different. We need to consider… She is not a Senshi of the 42nd millennium. She is an Anima of the 31st millennium. She is not like we imagined. She is not like the Imperial Cult imagines…the Ecclesiarchy."

Actually, there was a whole lot more to discuss but even I could not put so much Heresy in a single sentence. Kasteen looked taken aback, she had understood me. Broklaw squinted at me.

"You mean, we should not tell anyone, Cain? This is not something we can keep a secret. This is not something we 'should' keep a secret."

"No. No, what Ciaphas is saying…" Kasteens voice was faint. I could understand. I felt the same way. Tersely I nodded.

"Yes. Of course we can not, we should not keep it a secret. But there will be consequences. Vast consequences. Frak, consequences so far beyond our understanding that I tremble to even think about it. But the point is, Senshi Saturn… the Anima of the Imperium, She has just awoken. She… needs time. To adjust. To… understand our world. I have seen her, in battle. In combat. Her powers, her prowess are without any doubt. But she is appalled. At the world around her. At the 42nd millennium. At the death of her sisters. Her brothers. Her Father struck down… She maybe our Saviour. But we may drag Her down."

Kasteen looked stricken. Broklaw looked like he wanted to go up to a Nob and punch him. And keep punching.

"There is more. We have all had our experiences; with various… groups in the Imperium. Certain individuals. Sometimes, faith makes people do strange things. Or they are just too frakking stupid to not do the wrong thing. Or they are outright corrupt, fallen Herectics in hiding."

So I got a bit emotional. Frak it. That was not a topic I even wanted to consider neutrally.

Kasten was aghast, her face pale and her whole form actually trembling.

"Ciaphas. You mean. The Senshi is in danger? Not from the Great Enemy or Xenos. But… forces inside the Imperium of Man?"

Her voice actually pitched at the end. Broklaw was white enough to live as a phantom on Valhalla. Murmuring a prayer under his breath. I had never known that he was overly faithful, but the implications shook even my faith to the core. And I had never been an Emperor-brother. Far from it.

"Yes."

I did not like to speak out the hard, unpleasant truth. While neither of my counterparts had the habit to shot the messenger, sometimes not knowing was a blessing. A lot of times, in the galaxy we live in.

"What do we do? We need to protect Her." Kasteen had jumped up and started to walk up and down the small room. "24/7 body guards. Escorts."

Broklaw made a sound from its throat, somewhere between a snort and a cough.

"Regina. Calm down, we need to think about that. More importantly. Whom can we trust?"

That brought all of us short. Whom could we really trust in this Imperium of ours? Who would stand by our side, seeing the light, doing the right thing. Who would listen to orders, give in to the routine of following and obeying, casting aside the one chance for Salvation the Imperium might have.

Of course, we had our contacts. Lord General Zyvan. Amberley. I would trust both of them, even for something this important; they would stand with the ideals of the Imperium, the spirit of Serenity we had been taught so long ago.

I did my best to project my absolute confidence to both of them.

"We can trust our men. We can vouch for each and everyone of them."

And I could say that without exaggerating of false pride. Well, pride filled all our breasts, but it was well deserved. The 597th Valhallan was a closely knit unit, and they would follow our example. Especially with the miracle they had witnessed themselves. The walking light of the Anima touching all our souls.

"And we can trust the PDF. The Royal Guard. You have seen them; they are indeed the Royal Guard of the Princess Saturn."

My friends nodded, and both relaxed for a fraction. At least, we were not alone.

Broklaw looked practical at it, as always.

"Then we'll get a feel for the Royal Guard. They are good, no doubt about it. Really good. But they are… strange, too. They have the skills and discipline of a crack unit, but in some things they have just the knowledge of a backwater planet and no clue what they are facing. We will bring them up to speed."

That much was true. I did not want to be in any unit that had to stand against them in any kind of combat. Their equipment was most impressive, and their discipline and fighting spirit more than matched it. Even completely leaving aside their Colonels, I doubted that the Valhallans could take any of the over strengthened regiments. But they did have little clue how the enemies of the Imperium worked. Trying to get Orks to attack the weakest spot and avoid a fight was nothing even the most green Guards Commander would try. Having no idea about Chaos and its Daemons.

"And we need more information. Who is the Senshi of Saturn. We all know of the Anima, somehow. But what do we really know of the Senshi? What was the Imperium like, so long ago? Without…without the Eye of Terror. Walking Primarchs. Living Senshi. The Holy Emperor Himself. Where was the place of Saturn? I doubt that She only had a honour guard at Her disposal. And, more important. What about today? Where is Her place in the Imperium? What will be her position, Her authority?"

Both looked as clueless as I was. We were soldiers. Not historians, or political analysts. There was little use for skills like that on the battle field. At least, the battle fields we were used too. I had the distinct feeling that would change. If we lived that long.

Kasteen was looking at me. I would not have liked that look, even if my hands did not start to twitch.

"Then I suggest that you, Ciaphas, attend to the blessed Anima. You are the one that has got to known Her Holiness the best. Tell Her about the 42nd millennium. The Imperium of Man. What She means to us. And how we are willing to serve her."

If I had known it would come to this, I would have got up and just walked out of the Schola, one day long ago. Maybe trying my luck as an Aircat testpilot. Getting quickly away from all problems.

On my way to the rooms of Her Divine Majesty I tried to gather my thoughts. While I believe I had more experience in dealing with important dignitaries or members of the higher aristocracy than most average commissars, my experience in dealing with Divinity was awfully limited. Briefly considering if it would be a violation of protocol if I brought along a dictionary High to Low Gothic, I stepped in front of a door adorned with the Royal Sigil of Saturn.

"Commissar Cain here; I seek an audience with Her revered Majesty."

"Please confirm your Identity."

I stared flatly at the box shoved in my face. They had confirmed said identity mere hours ago.

Judging from the waves of playfulness and humour I was very much not feeling from them, I felt resigned and pressed my thumb on the pad once more. At least now I had a good theory where they got the red for their robes from.

"Identity confirmed and Audience granted." The crimson wall before me moved to the side, and I was able to enter Her sanctum. At least I was now trusted enough to step in without a pair of guards riding my coattails. Or, more likely, the Anima had given precise orders to her paranoid protectors.

Said Anima was standing next to a mounted canvas, ink and brushes placed beside it and straightened her civilian garb down, blushing fiercely when I stepped into Her domain; a blot of dark ink marring her face.

"Mooee…me happy see Cain."

Few forces I encountered could stop me completely cold in my tracks. The power of the Anima of the Imperium was great indeed. In a daze, I was unable to resist as my hand was grabbed and a short time later I found myself sitting in a comfortable chair, facing the Anima, cups of steaming tea between us. I do not remember the interim clearly.

Desperately trying to collect my thoughts, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

Only to bite down hard on my teeth as my brain caught up with me. Commenting on clothes or tastes was very much not the way I wanted this conversation to go. The rattling in my mouth lead involuntarily to a grimace on my part and a concerned look from the Anima.

"Ohhh… hurting Cain still? Me help?" In a state of near panic, I jerked back while the Icon of Imperial Faith raised her hands halfway and leaned forward.

"No! No…thank you, 'Hotaru', but I am perfectly fine. There is no need to expend your Holy Self any further on my account. I am already very grateful for the blessing You rewarded me with yesterday. Although I would have preferred it had not been necessary."

Like a puppet with her strings cut, her head dropped down deeply and her hands landed in her lap. A clogged voice answered me, holding back emotions.

"Me sorry. Please. Cain mad, no wanted. Just help wanted. Seen Daemon, seen Cain. Not Daemons alone against people. Protect them. Make gone."

I had the very prominent wish to just leave, deal with a company of mutinous Guardsmen or grab a stick and poke the next Greater Daemon that came along. Oh, wait. That was already the hobby of someone else.

"I am certainly not mad, Hotaru. Quite the contrary, I am very glad that you came along and stopped half the inhabitants of the Eye of Terror from taking my teeth. Of course, I was also quite concerned for your well-being. You… mean a lot to me, to us. We need you, Hotaru. You should not go out like that and risk yourself."

Judging from her flaming cheeks my words had not exactly had the effect I desired. Mentally rewinding I could barely suppress a groan when I found out where I had gone wrong. In the name of Her Big Sister. Why me? Give me a Chainsword, a Las pistol and a place to hide and I am quite fine. I am not meant for the subtle and mysterious art of talking or understanding juvie girls with Holy Power at their finger tips.

Wringing her hands for a moment and mumbling softly she left me with no idea what to do.

So I started to let my mouth run; it had gotten me into this mess, so it could get me out of it again. Some days, my brilliance was astonishing.

"I mean, it is our duty, Hotaru. The duty of everyone that stands against the forces of Chaos…"

Suddenly, she looked up again, her eyes unfocussed and her voice almost dreamily.

"The enemies of humanity. The Daemons of the Warp. The ones full of pain and misery. My Duty. I bring the end. I gentle the suffering. That is what I am meant to do. I am the Avatar of Silence."

Her voice was the only thing I heard in that moment. The faint murmur of people throughout the complex, the hum of power flowing to the arcane apparatuses of the Adeptus Mechanicus, my own breathing; all was silent, except for Her voice it seemed. But even that was…soundless. It was an eerie feeling.

I had tried to read up on the Anima of the Imperium. The Holy Senshi. But I had not found much in our dataslates that helped to improve my fragmented knowledge. Especially concerning the Senshi of Saturn. She was merely alluded too. Almost nothing was written about her, and when there was, she was only mentioned in passing. There was no doubt that She had been a proud and righteous figure of the Imperium, firmly loyal to Emperor and Princess. But where She had been…what She had done… I did not know. And after her quite monologue, I was not sure I wanted to know.

Yet, I had to ask.

"I take it you did fight the Daemons of the Warp before? You mentioned that the Emperor did send you to Hades V; to deal with a Daemon. Was that your duty?"

A barely perceivable nod, I believed to hear more words, from a great distance, so hollow and shallow.

"Yes. Duty. To live, and to serve, is to kill. To remove what is not meant to be. But what is meant to be?"

A shiver run down my spine. These words, they did not exactly fill me with the picture of a happy and joyful past for our newest sign of His Miraculous Works.

"Father sent me to kill Daemons when they appeared. My brothers did not like it. But they could not; only banish them. Some, never liked it… But it was good. I removed the stains of darkness, cut out the foul weed so that the rest of Humanity could flourish. Until Hades V…"

I did not want to go further, but I could not stop now. It was like a maelstrom, sucking me in. I felt as if I was stretched further and further, not snapping, but becoming more…sallow.

"Hotaru… what happened on Hades V? Why were you on Hades VI?"

Eyes, so empty of everything. A void, drawing me in.

"Hades V was lost. Everyone was dead, dying or fallen. The forces of Ruin had triumphed. So… I showed them true Ruin. I brought the Silence; to that which they had claimed. I heard everyone of them end. Hades V is now silent. Until the end of time and again."

I had a vision of a dark, silent place, drifting through a vast and cold ocean.

"Father was…surprised. He sent men to pick me up. But they did fell to the Silence, too, when they approached. So noisy. Living, active. Father was upset when he saw what Hades V had become. My brothers were appalled and my sisters cried. At least they called themselves that. I was not one of them. I had never been. Father asked me to sleep. Until he had a use for me again."

"I had a beautiful dream while I was sleeping. All was silent around me."

I was nearly hanging on the edge of my seat by now, and all my instincts told me feeble mortal to run, run, RUN. There are things Man is not meant to know; not meant to deal with, and I was certain that was one of these things. Sitting opposite from me, in the shape of a young and confused looking girl.

"Ohh…Cain fine? Cain pale; something happened?"

When sounds and voice finally returned I pulled myself together with a strength I did not know where I drew it from, and nodded, plastering a smile on my face that might have convinced and Adeptus Mechanicus. Might.

"Of course, Hotaru. I am fine. I…that was an enlightening conversation. But I am sorry, I have to go now… regimental duties… making the little Guardsmen happy… you understand."

I had slipped out of my seat and was backing away, keeping my eyes on her.

"Ohh… Cain coming visit again, yes? Me like…"

With an exaggerated nod, I stepped through the door all but knocking silent, red pins aside.

A small, fragile hand picked up her brush again and continued her work.

Adding more dark ink to blot out the white…

After I had finished gibbering and cowering in my office, I began to consider my options.

Before I had come to a solution that did not leave me faint, terrified or worse, the Vox box on my desk blarred.

"Ciaphas? Orbital Command has detected a shuttle that is approaching the garrison." The undertone of Kasteen's voice hinted at a certain urgency.

"A shuttle? Out of the Warpstorm?" I asked in bewilderment. The usual Chaos maddened, otherworldly invasion force tended to prefer a ride with more… style, than the average shuttle.

"No, it seems not. Its coming from somewhere at the opposite side of the planet and it has Imperial IDC's. Inquisitorial IDC's." Her last words sounded as happy as I felt about the prospect of our visitor's identity.

"Ahh. Well, yes. I suppose we should go and greet our guests then?" Preferable with a couple of Missiles, but rarely anyone listened in those things to me. Not that I spoke them out loud.

So the Emperor's most deranged and depraved had arrived. What else could go wrong?

As I have mentioned before, I never did learn not to ask.

Waiting behind the thick, armoured gates of the PDF garrison landing platform, I was desperately trying to think up a plan. Colonel Kasteen was accompanying me, and the Royal Saturnian Guard was present, too. Represented by a hulking black giant and a couple of storm troopers.

But what concerned me most, was the illustrious Anima of the Imperium and her red guardians deployed around us. It was not even the Anima herself that had me so concerned, although She was standing closer to me than I would have liked, especially when any kind of shooting started. It was the prospect of an Inquisitor lying eyes upon here before anything could be explained or his beliefs and priorities checked out.

At least she still was wearing her civilian garb. That left me some room for verbal manoeuvres.

With the sound of heavy machinery, the gates opened, revealing the interior of the airlock and our visitors. For once, I was speechless.

"Inquisitor Vail. An honour to serve with you again."

At least Kasteen was capable of speaking; that was more than could be said for me.

Wearing an easy smile on her face and a tasteful aquamarine gown that did little to hide her figure, she stepped forward. Followed by the more machine than man form of Mott and the fully human, but more bulkier Pelton.

"Oh, the honour is completely on my side, Colonel Kasteen. I am quite happy to see you."

Her smile turned more warm, almost personal. "And of course you, Commissar Cain."

I managed a weak nod. "What a pleasant surprise, Inquisitor Vail. I am delighted to see you again."

Okay. That had been a bit much. But I had already given away the game when I had openly gawked at Amberley. She was not someone who missed slips this severe and I had seen the suspicion in her eyes. Oblivious to the sudden mood swing and suspicions, Kasteen smoothly introduced the PDF Colonel.

"*hiss* Inquisitor *hiss*"

Well; she tried for smoothly. The only things which went smoothly with Colonel Radev were in some way or the other connected to his Power Sword as far as I was aware.

Even Amberley seemed a bit put off by him and I had seen her relaxed and poised in situations that had sent me screaming; well, at least I would have liked to scream in said situations.

"I am sure we will have an interesting time working together, Colonel. And who is that young lady if I may ask? Is there something you want to tell me, Cain?" She smiled radiantly at the slight girl, half hidden behind me and stepped towards her, not able to resist throwing a small jibe at me with tacit implications.

"Ohh… me Hotaru. Pleased to meet." Shyly the girl averted her eyes, touching my great coat with a hand, obviously only a hairs breadth away from taking full cover behind me.

So it came to be, that on a desolate world in the obscure fringes of the Imperium of Man an Inquisitor of His Divine Majesty gazed condescending down on one of His Holy Daughters, the Senshi of Silence.

I briefly considered sending a short prayer to Him and hope my ears had deceived me, but from what I had gathered so far His sense of humour and mine didn't get along too well.

But I was not without my own ammunition, either.

"Inquisitor Amberley Vail, of His Imperial Majesty's Most Holy Order of the Inquisitions Ordo Xeno, meet His Imperial Majesty's Even More Holy Daughter, the Senshi of Saturn, Anima of the Imperium."

I am no mean man. The small twinge of pleasure I felt at Amberley's incredulous stare was by no means connected to any sense of revenge for various bloody, terror filled missions that I had conducted for certain members of the Inquisition. Or their constant habit of having more information about anything that was going on than the rest of the people combined. Really.

"Uhm…hi." A small, childish hand waved from my side.

I couldn't help but throw my head back and laugh. The expression on Amberley's face. I laughed even harder as most of the people stared at me. All the tension of the past days, the anxiety. I just laughed.

"Cain. Is that a joke?" There was a hint of razor sharp plasteel in her voice and her gaze was more than a little angry as she tried to dissect me without the use of any tools. For all her show and posing, Amberley 'was' a member of the Inquisition and could be as ruthless as any of them. I laughed on, slowly wheezing to an end.

"Ohh…You are one of Haruka's agents, aren't you? How rude of me… please forgive me. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Vail. How is Michiru? I… ohh. I forgot. She is dead, isn't she? Like all the others. Mooeee…"

While the first part of her words in High Gothic had sounded upbeat and delighted like I had never really heard before from her, the slowness and bleakness when she ended was a contrast that almost physically hurt.

Amberley turned a shade ghostly white shockingly different from her usual appearances, not even in the darkest tunnels of Gravalax with untold numbers of Genestealers at our backs she had looked anything like that. She made the sign of the Aquila and opened her mouth, just to close it again, eyes becoming even more wide, finally breathing a faint:

"Emperor…"

"Uhm… no. Saturn. You are talking about my father."

Despite what other sources my claim, there was no smile in the voice, or on her face; neither faint nor malicious, she was only slowly blinking at the shell-shocked Amberley. Which really did nothing to soften the impact of her words.

Without any sound or preamble, the form of the small girl next to me changed. And in her place stood the Anima of the Imperium, Senshi Saturn in all her pale glory. Proud and strong she gazed regally at the astonished form of the Inquisitor, eyes calm but full of compassion, her weapon solemnly hold in Her hand, as upright and unwavering as She herself.

"Emperor though you are on Terra… Princess though you smile from the Moon….this is the Senshi of Saturn. Princess of the Imperium of Man. Guardian of the Firstborn Daughter. Maiden of of Loyality. The Serving One. Bringer Of Silence. Princess of Saturn. Slayer of Daemons. Lady of…"

I interrupted the babbling savant. I knew from experience he could go like that for hours.

"Mott. I think that's enough. We…all have an idea here who is in our midst." That shut him up nicely, and he dropped down on his knees like Amberley and her bodyguard.

"Ohh… please. Raise, Lady Inquisitor. And your men, too. It's an honour to meet you."

It always amazed me to see how the Senshi could go from a proud Icon of Imperial Might to a girl wringing her hands and blushing, while her weapon remained nowhere to be seen.

To my eternal relief, Amberley caught herself and even managed to stand up after another look of disbelief; just as certain black clad Ogryn was about to step forward. I already had a cunning plan devised to throw a red coloured stick between his legs and escape with Amberley in the resulting confusion, but luckily, I was not forced to implement said plan. I still had not worked out the throwing phase, exactly.

"Revered Anima, please forgive me, I had no idea that…" I had not seen Amberley so respectful since, well, I had never seen her so respectful and filled with awe. On the other hand, I am fairly sure she was the one of us that kept it together better compared to my first meeting with a certain Living Legend.

"Ohh…that is fine. I am at fault here, for I did not present myself befitting the situation. Please, accept my apologies."

It was like watching an Aircar crash in progress. An imperial Inquisitor and an Anima of the Imperium trying to take the fault for a perceived slight unto their own in rapid fire High Gothic, while Lord Radev stood by and was waiting for just one wrong word.

I had to do something, fast. And while I liked my own hide as much as was possible, I was not ready to leave Amberley to face such overwhelming opposition on her own. It went without saying, that it was my deep loyalty and respect to His Imperial Majesty's Inquisition that directed me to this course of action.

"Excuse. Me think, Amberley Inquisitor sleepy. We go, give time. I later story Holy Anima of the Imperium." I stammered out in what was probably a fairly accurate imitation of an Orc trying to speak High Gothic.

"Cain! By the Emperor, I know you stumble into the most unusual things, but this! By the Princess's light, Cain!"

I winced. Amberley could be a very pleasant, unassuming woman if she wanted to be, but she could be…forceful, too. Right now, she very much aimed for the later. She was pacing up and down the briefing room we had commandeered, Peltan staying outside and ensuring our privacy while Mott looked emptily in the air between us two.

"With the appearance of the Anima of Saturn, the last Senshi was found. The Holy Emperor was reunited with all of His Children. Appearing scant years before the Horus Heresy forever damned the galaxy, Her appearance is considered an omen; She is the end, She is the Harbinger. Bringer of the Silence, …"

"Mott! That is enough. She is an Anima of the Imperium." Amberley speared her minion with a look, whirling around.

I was at a loss. While I could have easily understood if she had been upset, or feeling quite out of it, she was angry. No, livid. Usually Amberley was one of the most controlled and reserved persons I had ever encountered. She might cover it behind a pleasant mask of cheerfulness, but I had glimpsed beneath it often enough to have got a feel for her true state of mind.

And right now, all masks, all layers were gone and I was right next to a plasma generator going critical.

Said plasma generator focused on me again.

"How long have you known about this? What has been going on. Tell me exactly what happened!" Suddenly, I wished I had worn my Carapace Armour under my great coat.

"Amberley, I assure you, everything is under control. So far, we…"

"No. Nothing is under control. And if we don't act fast, it will be a disaster of unimaginable proportions. So don't play around and tell me exactly what has happened. We need to work fast."

Okay. Something had definitely spooked her. I did not even want to imagine what could spook an Inquisitor of her calibre this strongly. But sadly, I had an active imagination and ample experience. Hastily moving away from these thoughts, I summarized the highlights of our short stay on Hades VI, only belatedly realizing that I was leaving quite a bit of details out of it. But Amberley's gaze reminded me too much of a Gauss Flayer to actually consider a slower, full-fledged explanation.

"We were deployed to take on a couple of Orks that crashed here. I… found the revered Anima in a Stasis Pod, I believe, inside an old, imperial underground facility here on Hades VI.

Shortly afterwards the Warpstorm appeared and Chaos forces conquered the capital. We returned, and pushed them out. They are pretty much beaten now. A Bloodthirster was there, too. But we managed to overcome it. Then…you showed up."

"A Bloodthirster… so it's true. She really is a Senshi, is she?" My favourite ally in the Inquisition shook her head faintly. I felt with her. Even now, I had still trouble grasping the situation and had taken to regularly pinch myself just to make sure I was not dreaming. Partly, I was still waiting for a Sorcerer of Tzeentch to step out of the walls and laugh in my face.

Briefly reviewing a few of the things I had seen during our assault on Hades Prime and a certain Bio-Titan, I nodded.

"Oh yes. There can be no doubt about it. She is a Senshi of the Imperium. Her power… I have never seen anything like it. It scares me."

Well, normally a Hero of the Imperium would never have admitted his 'worries' so openly. But I am not your average 'Hero of the Imperium' and Amberley and I had a 'common basis of trust' so to speak. Besides… considering what I had gathered so far from Senshi Saturn I felt damned right to express… concerns.

Amberley made an agreeing sound.

"True, the Holy powers of a Senshi must be without peer in this dark galaxy now. But what is even more important… she is an Anima. The implications… We need to be careful about this.

Damn, warpspawned, squigshit of a …"

I barely suppressed the impulse to jump. While I did know that Amberley had an… unladylike streak, something that was more than necessary for her job, the foul languages and curses flowing out of her mouth now made even me blush. And believe me; as a commissar you are no stranger to colourful language. Usually directed at you by various troopers.

Even Mott looked astonished. And the man could join the local PDF for his social awareness.

"Amberley. Calm down. What is going on?" I had a bad feeling about it. A Bad feeling.

With a heavy sigh she dropped in a chair. For a moment, she looked defeated. That scared me more than anything else. In all the time I had known Amberley, in all the situations we had survived just by sheer chance and luck, she had never looked… defeated.

I stepped closer to hear, trying to offer my comfort, but her fire returned.

"You know why I am here Cain? No? Well, that doesn't surprise me. I do not know why I am here either. All I know is that I have this." And hold out a small, cylindrical object to me, maybe twenty centimetres in length, and five in diameter in a silver grey colour. Carefully I reached out and took it, when she made no move to stop me. It was prudent to be careful with strange objects any Inquisitor waved around.

The tube was heavy. As in really heavy, considering its size. Tapping against the metal confirmed my suspicion. It was made from pure Adamantium. On two sides of its length was a row of runes, faint indentions in the unearthly strong material. High Gothic. My eyes boggled as I read them.

'Careful. Content delicate. Handle with care.' Adamantium was the densest, the strongest material known to the Imperium of Man. It could shrug of just about anything.

"Is that a joke Amberley?" I pointed incredulously to the writing.

"A joke made from pure Adamantium? One expensive joke, wouldn't you think? Check the ends, Ciaphas."

At least Amberley was getting her feet back, and I calmed down, too. Only to have the bottom of my stomach drop out as I looked at the ends of the tube. I suddenly felt a need to sit down, and nearly missed the chair. I had seen that mark before. On a door. Just right next to mine. And in an underground facility, untouched for ten thousand years.

"There is something inside this whatever it is supposed to be. I had cogboys crawling all over it. It is first grade Adamantium, a hundred percent pure. Most heavy weapons we field would not even scratch it. But a small part of it is hollow. They didn't had any Auspex capable of figuring out its contents, no matter how many days they prayed over it. We did not find any switches, mechanism or more esoteric options to manipulate it either. The magos assured me they had blessed it with every prayer of the Omnissiah, every incantation of the Machine Spirit and bathed it in every holy medium they could think of. It didn't do anything. No one has any clue what it is. And now…. Her."

"Do I even want to know where you found it?" I eyed my old…friend. There was more, I doubt anyone else could have seen it, but we were…acquainted.

Amberley let out a very unladylike snort.

"I want to know that, too. Well, of course, I do know where we found it, but that makes it worse. On Rakel's bedside cabinet. Inside the Ordo's main citadel."

I gaped at her. Every Ordo of the Inquisition had me beat hands down when it came to paranoia, it was kinda a requirement for their job. And they had more than enough resources to maintain an internal security that even they were satisfied with. There was no way anyone from the outside could penetrate that. At least I didn't want to consider the possibility. So; it had to come from the inside…right?

"Naturally, first we believed it was a bomb."

Naturally. Every time I found an unfamiliar object in my bedroom I made the same assumption. You see what I meant about paranoia?

"But all our research made it highly unlikely. Besides, there is no known explosive in the galaxy that could break a shell of Adamantium from the inside with such a tiny amount.

But actually, that is not my main concern right now."

She stopped herself and shook her head, working herself up to livid again. Hastily, I interrupted. Amberley could be scary enough even under best circumstances, but seeing her out of character like this had me more than just a bit worried.

"What do you mean, Amberley? What is happening?"

She focused on me again. Maybe I should just have stayed quite.

"Oh, nothing. The Great Enemy is moving around the Cadian Gate in numbers not seen in centuries, rumours speak of a new Black Crusade, the Hive Fleets are more active than ever, at least eight fully space capable Ork Waaaghs are rampaging around the galaxy, Eldar raids are increasing, we just lost half a sector fleet to we don't even know what, probably Necrons and Heretics and fanatics alike speak of the end of the millennium, the return of the Emperor or the death of the Imperium. Oh, and there is a Battle Barge belonging to the Angels of Damnation with their 3rd Company on route to Hades VI. They have loaded Cyclonic Torpedo's and are under order to commence an Exterminatus on this world."

**A place of glory long passed**

It was a dark, alien space. Devoid of any human touch, utterly disturbing for Man.

Still and undisturbed, a figure stood.

A slender, delicate hand was wrapped around a long, dark shaft.

The figure stretched its senses, feeling the end coming. Slowly, inexorably it approached.

But it would not give up. It would not go quietly into the night. It could not.

Suddenly, everything stilled. Where once was darkness, void now ruled. Where once was quite, Silence now ruled. Everything… gone.

The figure screamed.

Fleet foot, barely touching the floor. A melody, the opening of a door.

"Farseer. Farseer, what happened?" Cae'Shael kneeled down, next to her Mistress.

Her form writhed on the floor, the thousand year old Eldar, always a bastion of strength and calm for the whole Craftworld to draw on, screamed. And screamed, until her voice became sore.

The Warlocks hand hushed over the cramped body, administering what aide she could. She considered to just sink her Mistress into oblivion, to give her mind time to recover.

But finally, the screaming stopped, only to be replaced by sobbing.

"I have not seen it. I have not heard it. The Threads of Fate. The Song of Worlds. They are gone. Gone. They are not."

Cae'Shael could not help but shiver. Her Mistress, Aenas'Tailong, the powerful Farseer of Arach-Qin. Guiding the Craftworld for more than a thousand years, she had overcome Daemons and conflicts that had consumed many lesser Eldar. To afflict her like that, in her own chambers of meditation… Cae'Shael finally moved her hands, intending to press on the spots along Aenas's neck that would grant her the blessing of unconsciousness.

A strong hand caught hers in a powerful grip.

"No. We must prepare. There is no time to waste. We must stop the silence. Else all that is, all that ever will be, is lost."

The sobbing had subsided, but tremors still shook the body. But the grip was strong, filled by might and determination beyond anything the young Warlock could muster. With a fluid movement no other race could manage, Aenas'Tailong, guide of a thousand fates, Mistress of the Infinity Web, rose up from the ground, her Singing Spear gripped securely.

The mon-keigh did not know which forces they stirred. They would not live to regret it, either.

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison**

"Princess's Mercy. An Exterminatus? Who in the Warp ordered an Exterminatus on an Imperial World? Especially now." Mentally, I was already on the way to enter the next shuttle.

"I don't know. I only got word about it from an 'informal' source. And with the Warpstorm over the planet, or its remains… The Angels of Damnation are not known for their tendency to discuss or confer with those they believe to be Chaos corrupted." Amberley laid out the facts in a plain voice.

"They would launch an Exterminatus against world that houses an Anima of the Imperium? You must be joking." But even while I spoke my words, I realized the truth. If this was a standard mission, they would enter the system and detect the Warpstorm. Then, they would approach the planet from the safest possible angle and launch the Cyclonic Torpedos from a distance. They would not heed Vox calls from a fallen Imperial World with orders this clear, and mere minutes after their launch, the Torpedoes would detonate. Transforming the atmosphere of Hades VI in an explosive maelstrom of fire, blowing over the surface, burning away every living being on the ground. Including me.

"We have to evacuate."

Mott answered me, suddenly coming back in the conversation. Hearing his words, I wished he hadn't.

"Imperial Lunar Class Cruiser Ceres's Charge; 481th Battlefleet of His Divine Majesty's Navy; capable of supporting heavy space operations directly as well as patrolling and securing sub sectors. Equipped for launching light attack craft and in times of dire needs able to carry up to one full strength regiment of the Imperial Guard…."

I ignored the rest of his babbles. I had already heard more than I wanted to know, I faced Amberley again.

"That is your ship? You are here with a fleet, aren't you? A couple of troop transports, maybe some battle cruisers?" It never, well, it rarely hurt to ask, did it?

"Yes. I requisitioned it directly from Solar Command. It's probably the fastest ship in the Sector." She replied in a matter of fact tone.

Ignoring her comment about travelling here from Solar Command I simply muttered.

"…and completely unable to carry three regiments, not even considering a couple of million civilians."

The circumstances looked not well for my continued survival and well being. Despite pretty much knowing the answer, I had to ask.

"What about counter-mandating the order? Can you get them to stand down? Inquisitorial order versus Inquisitorial order?

She shook her head, decisively.

"Considering we have a Warpstorm in the systems, the remains of a Daemon attack on the capital and well; the history of the concerned Chapter I am… not very confident they'll even accept any Voice transmission, Inquisitorial Seal or not. Even an Inquisitor can be broken."

That was only too true, as I had found out on Samashesh IV. It had been…not pretty.

Amberley sighed and shrugged.

"Well, if it comes to that, we can at least evacuate the Anima." An Inquisitor has to keep his or her focus (read: be able to ignore and slaughter everyone not imminently vital to the mission) but I spotted a detail there.

"….there might be a problem with that." Was my dry cut remark.

The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow, and when she spoke, there was a hint of steel behind her words.. "A problem with the evacuation of the Senshi? Who would hinder that?"

"Well, naturally, our resident Anima of the Imperium herself. The gentle spirits; the guides and caretakers of Humanity." I hurried to explain; no need to give her the wrong idea; feelings or not, I very much did not want to be around a cranky Amberley.

Astonished blinking was my answer, and it took a moment for her to get behind the idea, but then her groan was audible.

"Don't tell me… she would hesitate to leave the planet to stay alive?"

I shrugged; there was little else I could do. I made a note to find someone else to deliver the bad news from now on.

"She is an Anima of the Imperium, Amberley. Not a fat bureaucrat, an Administratum quill-pusher or a degenerate high noble. Her compassion… is truly not from this world."

"Great. And in order to prove that compassion, the most sacred being in the whole Imperium outside of Terra is going to get Herself killed. Perfect…" but before she could launch into a full tirade, she gave out a weary sigh. "No, no; I understand. I keep thinking as if this was any ordinary situation, intrigues in the Imperium, dignitaries of the highest order involved and political quagmires. But this is so much more, isn't it? The Anima; she really is like the legends describe her." There was faint reverence in her voice; and hope, relief. As if we were touching upon something truly extraordinaire. Something far above us humans, something not from our world. Something pure, divine.

Which was actually pretty much true.

"Yes. And no." I noticed her confused look. "She is an Anima of the Imperium. But… she has been asleep for ten thousand years. She remembers a world where the Holy Emperor was walking Himself… her Brothers and Sisters were around Her. Chaos being a faint, distant threat. And…She doesn't know 'war'."

Amberley looked dumbfounded at me.

"Emperor and Princess…."

I could only nod at her. It seemed, we had our work cut out for us.

Absentmindedly I rubbed my finger and pondered how easy it was to die from blood loss due to genescans. Although the face of Her Inquisitorial Authority having to take one, had probably been worth it.

Right now, she was busy smiling prettily at the three gathered Colonel's and the Senshi. Kasteen was looking back friendly, while the Senshi once again avoided any eye contact and was more or less looking in my direction. The resident freak duo was not even bothering to react to a meagre Inquisitor sitting in on their briefing.

"…so I doubt that the Battle Barge will answer any of our Vox hails and we need to prepare for the possibility of an Exterminatus hitting this world in the next few days."

The Anima looked positively stricken and plain horrified at my words. Kasteen tried to hide her feelings of horror and concern for her men behind a façade, and more or less failed. The PDF leadership, on the other hand, were a lot better at hiding behind their masks.

"Extrapolating from the available data of standard Astartes tactics while conducting an Exterminatus under the usage of Cyclonic Torpedoes, our current orbital and ground based assets must be deemed insufficient to reliably stop the operation."

"*hiss* Mistress Saturn should take residence *hiss* upon your vessel, Inquisitor *hiss* and leave the system. *hiss* We will stay behind *hiss* and deal with the intruders. *hiss*"

At least, I hoped that were masks. Very much hoped so. Amberley was at least as good as I was at reading people, something like a requirement for her job. She stared at both Colonels like they had just ordered half a Squiggoth with a side order of Knarloc. She addressed the one with the breathing problem; well, she was new, so her mistake was kinda understandable.

"Colonel Radev. What do you mean, you will 'deal with the intruders'? This is an Astartes Strike force conducting an Exterminatus we are talking about, not even a planetary invasion you could hope to beat back."

Maybe they had hidden a squadron of Emperor Class Battleships in their backyard. Or a personal full fledged Battlefleet, neither would have surprised me at this moment.

"*hiss*They should not be too proud *hiss* of this technological terror *hiss* they have constructed.*hiss* The ability to destroy a planet *hiss* is insignificant to the power of *hiss* *hiss* *hiss* Humanity."

"Destroy. World? With torpedoes. But… but. Terrible. They no should do. Destroy world bad. Me knows. Got scolded."

The aghast voice of the Anima sounded as she looked at me with huge, round eyes. While I pretty much agreed that destroying a world was very bad indeed, I had never been scolded for it. It flashed briefly through my mind that I had no clue exactly when the first Exterminatus was conducted, as far as I could remember the actual term had never come up during the Great Crusade. But I am no scholar, and I had more pressing matters to consider anyways, like…

"Indeed, revered Anima, we will aim to pool our resources and attempt to devise an accurate strategy to intercept the Cyclonic Torpedoes, avoiding the destruction of Hades VI."

Colonel Kasteen looked in astonishment at her 'colleagues' but managed to refrain from asking in utter disbelief.

As I had mentioned before, Amberley was new.

"Which strategy are you talking about? Do you have a reliable way to intercept torpedoes launched from deep space guided by the best machine spirits the Adeptus Mechanicus can offer?"

"No, as previously mentioned we are currently lacking said orbital capacity."

I felt like strangling someone. I merely refrained out of civility, not because I was pretty sure some people in this room could make Necron Lords cower under a table in 'concern'. But aside from that, I had a meeting to bring back on track.

"Ok. Aside from that, I believe we need to prepare for the worst and evacuate the esteemed Anima, as well as the most vital personnel." Me! Me! ME!

"No. No can do. Ship small. Many people. People must not die. Must stop Exterminatus."

That was the voice of a Princess of the Imperium, the Anima and Senshi Saturn, declaring Her unquestionable decision to Her subjects and everyone practically stood at attention.

But the following whisper did not sound like the proud Warrior Empress we had just envisioned, not at all. "Must stop father's soldiers. Why father does awful things?"

Amberley was twitching, and I was quite happy that she was one of the most unconventional Inquisitors I had ever met; thus she was not prone to overly orthodox convictions. I had the livid image of the average Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor hearing the speech with its blasphemously casual reference to the Holy Emperor and suffering a stroke. Then realizing that said reference was in no way blasphemous at all and suffering a second stroke. Which might lead to a healing by Her Holy Powers, leading probably to a third stroke…ahh, you can see where this is going. Well, sometimes my job wasn't too bad, all in all.

In the end, Amberley's self control won out and she managed to slowly explain her concerns.

"Revered Anima. The Angels of Damnation are most certainly not acting on direct order from… the Holy Emperor of Mankind, merely under order of a member of the Inquisition. Unfortunately, the waning Warpstorm will probably result in them ignoring all my hails and demands to stop the operation. I am not even sure they would accept a transmission carrying your personal Sigil, either; it is not listed anymore in the usual Imperial Databanks."

Hesitantly, the young girl nodded, looking somewhere at Amberley's gown.

"Me understand. Then, me go to them. Visit. And talk."

Amberley shot me a questioning look, pretty much asking 'What in the Warp?', which I answered with a patented shrug and my eyes telling her 'Frakked if I know, you are the one who studies the Holy Secrets and stuff.'. She countered with a glare that coolly promised 'There will be much pain in your future, Ciaphas.' I gulped.

At least, I got a brief respite when she focused back on the discussion.

"Revered Anima, please forgive my question, but how do you intent to 'visit' the approaching Space Marines? An Exterminatus is conducted from space, launched several hundred thousand kilometres away from the target."

The girl shrugged and just looked at the Inquisitor with big eyes.

"Teleport on board I will."

Ah. Well, of course. We should have expected that.

"*hiss* Mistress. Please consider *hiss* the possibility of *hiss* hostile actions *hiss* by the Astartes. *hiss*"

While that was a valid concern, it was not necessarily the first point that came to my mind after hearing the Anima's plan. But she was quick to reassure us, anyways.

"Me…me sure is they fine. Not harm."

Indeed, that did dissolve our combined concerns. Not. Amberley tried once more to be the voice of reason.

"Revered Anima. I must voice the protest of the Holy Inquisiton. Please reconsider. Your actions would put you at an enormous risk, and we would not be able to protect you. Any boarding action is completely out of the question. Aside from facing a full company of Space Marines, their combat servitors and crewman, we have nothing that would have even the chance of sailing through the storm of fire a Battle Barge can put out and carry an escort for you."

My rectum clenched upon the mentioning of entering a Battle Barge with hostile intentions. Manned by His Finest; a full company of Space Marines would tear through pretty much anything the Valhallans could field. In the corridors and halls of a space ship it was even worse. Especially if the Marine's had the advantage of defending. I could not remember the last time anything had even come close to successfully boarding a manned Battle Barge and winning the resulting struggle.

"How…how sneaking? Not being seen? I make small ship quiet. Shuttle is name"

The immense guns of the Battle Barge had not even been my main concern but now that I thought about them, it became even worse. A shuttle would burst upon the slightest of glancing hits a Battle Barge could fire. And how being quiet would help us there, I had no idea. Maybe then no one would hear my screams of terror.

"Even then… we would only be able to bring a small force onboard the battle barge. We are talking about a full company of space marines facing us."

I whole heartedly agreed with Amberley there. Fighting Astartes with numerical inferiority was… not wise. At all. And only a fool would even consider it.

"*hiss* Impressive. *hiss*"

I shot him a look, but decided not to make an issue out of it and adjusted my collar.

"No fighting. Talking." The small girl at the table explained.

Yes, that was my preferred solution for all kinds of problems, too. Sadly, most of the time I had to do the talking with my Las pistol; falling back on the sharp tongue of my Chain Sword from on occasions. Unfortunately, our options of 'talking' were also quite limited as Amberley pointed so helpfully out.

"Well; I do not see how we could talk the Angels out of it; they are renowned for being a quite single-minded chapter. Not that I believe they would dare to fire upon an Holy Anima of the Imperium, but… forgive me, your Highness, but they might doubt your identity and shoot first, asking questions later."

Great. Fanatics hand picked by the Inquisition. We would have better chances to talk the average Ork Waagh into making love, not war.

Slowly nodding her head, settling down in a pose fitting to a king or leader, not a young woman, we could hear the weight behind the Anima's words and her final decision.

"Me sorry. But must try. Will be no Exterminatus."

I had the sudden urge to find a copy of the Codex Astartes and look for any guidelines of reacting to grovelling and surrendering enemies.

"…..as you command, Holy Anima. And maybe… if I could reach the launch relics, I could use my inquisitorial authority to convince the machine spirit to misfire them or make them unusable."

That plan sounded as desperate as any that was going through my head. Considering that several included loud wailing and grovelling, you can get an idea how I judged the chances of success for Amberley's plan.

"Very well. Then we will prepare an escort accompanying Princess Saturn during her negotiations with the Astartes.

Sometimes, I really regretted that the Tech Priest's had taken all possibilities of showing emotion, stress or anxiety away from the servitor.

The meeting didn't take long to conclude after that. After all, there was not much we could do besides pray to His Imperial Majesty that a certain Marine Chapter would it get through their thick skulls and listen. Considering that Astartes get special treatment to increase strength, density and thickness of their bones, I had little hope for that.

What had me even more concerned was that I was supposed to be on the shuttle. Boarding a Battle Barge. Full of Space Marines. Who were not necessarily on our side.

It was certainly better than waiting on the ground for a Cyclonic torpedo to drop on my head, but in all honesty, it wasn't a whole lot better. I resolved to talk 'fast' once we got on the ship. Or at least hide behind Colonel Radev.

While he had decided to accompany us, together with an assortment of the Imperium's Storm Troopers, it was unlikely that I would see much from him aboard. From a view of tactical cover, that was pretty sad.

The Holy Anima, Amberley and I were supposed to meet up with a couple of genetically engineered super soldiers that considered us the enemy and who had known only war and slaughtering the enemies of the Imperium for centuries, and talk them out of being mean to us.

Colonel Radev and his small detachment of Storm Troopers were supposed to enter the Battle barge, search it, find the launch tubes of the Cyclonic Torpedos, fight their way through droves of said super soldiers and then sabotage the launchers.

I was not sure which assignment I liked less. To be honest, neither stood very high with me.

Colonel Kasteen was mostly keeping herself busy by moping up any Chaos worshipper that might be left in Hades Prime, while Soudisi had once again uttered a sermon to the Omnissiad, for all I knew, and was conferring with Tech Priests and Emperor knows how. There was a strange gleam in his eyes that gave me cause to avoid any further questions.

So I had been quite happy to escape to my office. But after taking care of the limited amount of work I actually had to do after Jurgen's most efficient managing, I was just left brooding. Considering that my vision was mainly filled with pictures and images from the Exterminatus I had once witnessed while safely tucked away on a Starship, it was not the most pleasant of activities.

So for once, I was actually thankful for the distraction of the one person we would all give our lives to protect, stepping into my offices. Keeping her head bowed she slowly made her way over towards me with shuffling movements.

"Cain greetings. Me ask, need help. If bother no."

Carefully considering what the Anima of the Imperium could want my help for and shying away from most of the items that came to mind, I was nonetheless not about to reject any of her requests. Well, not most of them. Fear of the now closely present Inquisition or Royal Saturnian Guard had nothing to do with my decision, I assure you.

"Certainly, … Hotaru. How may I help you?" I smiled encouragingly at her, trying my best to be Ciaphas Cain, and not Commissar Cain, faithful servant of her Father. I nearly winced at the last line of thought; it was just difficult to get used to see an Anima of the Imperium in the dark, subdued colours and simple clothes she seemed to prefer. She differed vastly from the portraits and busts I remembered of any of the Holy Anima.

At least, she was wearing a pair of trousers this time.

"Me…weak, need combat studies. Cain help? Play battling, yes?"

Scenes staring a certain Bio-Titan sized traitor marine played through my mind. Namely taking an Aircar of Promethium to the face and still coming, but then being thrown around by a small girl. Followed by scenes of blows too fast for me to follow, movements snapping into place and blows seeming powerful enough to shatter rockrete.

"I…ahh, don't think I would be the right person to receive this honour."

Ask one of your brothers? But be gentle with them? Or if they are busy… Colonel Soudisi has this handy Titan around; just don't break it too much.

"Cain great. Me seen. Formed sword is very nice. Me, little so. Never been good. Sleep did not help. Me need forms when facing Astartes. Cain partner, yes?"

The slight girl was looking up to me adoringly, a bright smile on her face and hands clutched together before her body.

All I could see was the form of a ten foot tall fallen Astartes crashing through a wall without his consent.

"While I admit that I have had my fair share of melees and am fairly adapt at handling the sword, well… I am no Astartes. I do not think I would be able to keep up with a Senshi of the Imperium, Hotaru."

Blushing, she shook her head and shifted a little.

"Ohh, no, no. Not power. Me want Forms. Procedures, yes. Me control power, let going of power, nearly human. No senshi, no stronger Cain. Me no hurt, just sparrowing. Building procedures."

I gulped. But aside from flat out refusing an Anima of the Imperium a personal request, I found little room to wiggle out of the way before I was squashed like a certain Bio-Titan. But if she would really reduce her terrifying speed and strength to more human levels, I might even survive the encounter. Sometimes, hope was all what carried us on.

"Well…yes, if you really consider it a necessary practice, I will gladly supervise your training. Although I am fairly sure there are more qualified people…"

"Ohh, me happy. Cain, thank you." Following a deep bow before me, the Senshi suddenly darted forward, hands reaching out.

All I could do was jump up and stiffly walk ahead, avoiding to be dragged along by the Anima. I still was not sure what, and if, her guardians thought about her dealings with me, or if they were at all intimidated by my commissarial authority. Considering how practically no one on this planet cared about it, I doubted they were any exception. Which reduced my only hope of keeping my face in front of the troops to pray for the discretion of a squad of men whose uniforms worked pretty well for camouflage in any Blood Angel convention.

Having changed into more comfortable clothing and wielding a synth sword, I took a few practice swings. The practice weapons in the Gymnasium were quite a bit different from my aged Chain Sword, but they would do. It went without saying that certain red guardians had sealed off the hall and had probably placed snipers as well as antitank barriers around it.

Facing me was the Senshi of the Imperium, the Bringer of Silence, She who had defeated and killed a mighty Chosen of Khorne and even a Bloodthirster.

What exactly was I doing here? And more important, how could I get out of it? Alive.

Balanced on the balls of her feet and wielding an exact replica of her chosen weapon, she had changed into the same training outfit our female troopers used. Where she had gotten one in her size, not to mention a training glaive, I had no idea. I certainly wasn't going to ask about it. But by this time, I already had a more than sneaking suspicion.

Again, she was beaming happily at me, far too relaxed and comfortable compared to my own plight. But then, she was the one with the super human abilities and Holy Powers.

"Okay, I will begin with some basic opening attacks and then we will work our way up from there. No full contact, and once someone is down, we pause." I laid out the basic rules for the massacre.

Her face took on a determined, focussed look and she nodded tersely in reply.

"Please be careful." I rushed to add.

Despite my secret hopes, no new crisis arrived to disrupt our 'sparring' before it started and I had no choice but to begin. I moved in and started with some light attacks, keeping my distance. Normally, it would be prudent to get as close as possible to someone with such a slight build and a weapon with the reach of a glaive, but this duel was not exactly usual as far as I was concerned.

As expected, she had no trouble at all dealing with my probing attacks, so we quickly built up speed and began a more serious approach. I was relieved to notice that she seemed to stay true to her word. She was fast, but not the blur of images I remembered, and I could actually parry her attacks without my arms getting torn out. For which I was quite thankful.

Our attacks intensified. I had rarely had to fight someone with a pole weapon and her style was unusual. The only time I had the misfortune to fight someone with a pole arm was on Naris I, during a remarkable dull and easy campaign according to official Imperial Reports.

Breaking the pattern of her fast, stabbing attacks, I stepped in close and used my more flexible weapon to greater effect. Naris I had been a bit more interesting from my side, considering how I had gotten separated behind the Cultists lines for a couple of weeks. It was not my most favourite memory; and the fight against the glaive wielding warrior, least of all.

The fight was intense, hard. The both of us pressed the other for any advantage, intent to bring the other down, and to stay alive. Concerns for finesse or tactics were completely irrelevant and we used every dirty trick we could think of, willing to use any cheap move for an advantage.

Utilizing my greater mass to drive my slight enemy back, keeping up, staying too close for the long weapon, using my mass against superior strength and my shorter weapon against amazing speed I pressed on. His short, gnarly arms had surprising strength and the reflexes were just unholy. Only my greater experience and the plethora of nasty tricks I had picked up saved me from the deadly weapon swung by the Chaos warrior.

Finally, I spotted a gap in the defence and without hesitation I twisted the weapon aside and jabbed my left hand forward, using all my body and the full advantage of my augmented fingers to smash the throat of the enemy.

With a gurgle, the Anima stumbled back from the deadly hit. I froze.

"Cain! What in the Emperor's Name. Medic. Get a medic here!" Amberley's voice cried out, even as she rushed across the Gymnasium towards us.

Emperor's Holy Light. What had I done?

"Firrhhnee, me ok. Thank Cain. Was good. No mad, Amberley."

The Anima had caught herself, supporting her weight with her practice glaive, one hand rubbing her throat. Alive, and mostly unhurt it seemed. My whole body was shivering and with a clatter, my blade fell to the ground. Great, heaving breaths shook me as the world became unfocused before my eyes.

The blonde Inquisitor had arrived at our side now, and her furious glare at me I could feel even then.

"Cain! What do you think you were doing?" And without pausing for breath, she whirled around to the Anima, a smile on her face asking in a reverend High Gothic.

"Your Majesty, please hold on. A medical team will be here soon to attend to your Holy Self."

But the Senshi straightened up, her weapon held in an easy grip.

"Please, not. Me fine. Everything impeccable. Cain did good."

I was still in a state of shock, but the expression on Amberley's face as the Holy Anima herself reached out and patted her on the arm managed to draw me back in the present quite handily. In any other situation I might have failed to suppress a chuckle, but right then, I was still too terrified.

"Honoured Anima. Please, forgive me. I have no excuse for what I did." At least none I would try to voice with Amberley around, no matter how shell shocked she looked.

"No, no. Is fine. Me asked. Me gay. Good fight. Uhm, why Amberley Inquisitor here? Wanting somewhere?" Reassuring us with a shy, subdued voice, she shuffled closer to me, letting go of Amberley and ducking down a bit.

"I, I have come to ask for an audience, revered Anima. But it can wait of course, if your Majesty is indisposed right now."

My head was beginning to hurt from one of them speaking High Gothic and the other one staying in Low. Or maybe it was just the aftermath of the shock.

Had I really struck out against a Senshi of the Imperium? What had I been thinking? Even less than usual, it seemed.

I had been back on Naris I, reliving the brutal struggle against the Heretic; but to strike a killing blow against a Senshi… Blessed be her Divinity, at least She had been able to survive it; although that was scary in itself. I would have put good money on a strike like that disabling or choking an Astartes to death. Well, if it landed.

"Is fine. Changing clothes, conferencing in meat room, yes?" Straightening her dishevelled exercise clothes, the girl nodded to the Inquisitor, whispering her reply. I winced when I considered how it may stem from her hurt throat.

"I feel honoured by your generosity, Holy Anima. I will patiently wait for the audience"

Looking quite amiable and friendly once more, Amberley grabbed my arm and steered me towards the door. Even without the near painful grip I would have recognized her inner turmoil; she was still reeling. And probably going to rake me over the plasma coils for the rest of my short life.

Being all but bodily dragged around by an Inquisitor of His Holy Majesty was not exactly an experience I enjoyed, even if it was one as 'nice' as Amberley. At least she shoved me only in a small briefing room, and not a room suited for more… unpleasant activities of previously mentioned organisation.

"You know, Ciaphas, do you want to tell me why exactly you tried to assassinate one of the Holy Daughters of Mankind?" Her bright, saccharine voice hit me like a bucket of ice water.

"By the Princess, Amberley, you can't believe…" She interrupted my panicked outburst with a snort.

"No, of course not. I know you had a practice session of some kind or the other, but what were you thinking? I know you are one of the best swordsman in the Segmentum, but I have seen Astartes spare with less 'vigor'. And that last blow; Thank the Emperor that His Daughter seems to have the power to stand even against your most cockeyed plans. Else you would be dead right now."

The hard stare she gave me left me with no doubt at all what she would have done if I had seriously harmed the Anima. No matter our mutual 'respect'.

I faltered. My own voice sounded strange to me, so far away. The room was fading around me, giving way to a rocky field, strange sounds filling the air, swarms of flies covering the dead.

"I…I don't know, Amberley. It was like Naris I; the campaign… the 417th Alyrian. It was nothing special, but these weeks behind the lines. And that Cultist. I had seen the child, a few weeks ago. Before the heavy fighting started. Her head was adorning the pole arm. Still fresh, blood red, not black. I…"

"Sshhh, shh, it's okay, Ciaphas. You are on Hades VI. Here are no Cultists alive anymore. No pole arms. We are all with you. Stay with me." I don't know how it came to be, but I found myself sitting in a chair, Amberley in 'close' proximity to me, and gentle stroking my cheek. The cold terror and anxiety gave way to a much nicer feeling.

Naturally, the door chose exactly this moment to hiss open. I was beginning to suspect that the whole family had a crappy sense of humour.

"Ohhh…ohh. Me come back later?"

In this moment, I was sure that the fabricators of the red guardian's helmets were indeed very appreciated. Else I might have detected a smile on their faces or something equally unjustified and summarily executed the lot of them before they could derogate Imperial Morale any further.

The heavily flushed faces of the Anima, trembling hands and her downcast eyes did not make things much better, but never would I dream of retaliating against that which was Holy. Really, never.

With a fluid grace that did nothing to help my momentarily impasse, Amberley rose up and assumed a more dignified pose.

"Oh, of course not, revered Anima. Please, forgive our momentary lapse. We are delighted that you are willing to spare us a moment of your time, oh Holy One."

Inquisitorial training seemed to prepare one for almost anything, judging from the fact how fast and perfect she recovered her poise and switched to fluent High Gothic. I was less capable and awkwardly came to attention, while the Anima shuffled towards the next chair and set down, still avoiding to look at us. Seemingly concentrating on the legs of her civilian garb.

Judging from the Princess's behaviour, I should probably not ask Amberley later if there was an inquisitorial edict concerning the corrupting of His Daughters; and I am not talking about Chaos influences here.

"No worries. Me of course having time for brave agents of Imperium. Together, we all need."

"If Her Imperial Majesty would like it, we could commune in High Gothic. I am sure, none of the present would mind." A completely unnecessary, and brutal, glare hit me and I nodded most eagerly. Of course I would not mind to strain my mind and try to decipher the meanings of an archaic language after such a pleasant day.

The Anima perked up and even managed to raise her eyes to look at Amberley's face.

"Ohh… if that is in accordance with the preferences of Commissar Cain I would very much prefer the use of my native language. Please forgive me, but my grasp of the evolved version that seems to be in present use is extremely lacking and crude."

Amicable, the blonde woman at my side answered before I had translated half of the sentence.

"As I mentioned, I am very, very sure Commissar Cain would not mind it. First, I wish to apologize for the rather barbaric treatment that her Imperial Majesty had just to endure through the hands of said Commissar. Should her Majesty wish so, I will find some disciplinary actions suited for his transgression."

As the prudent man I was, my face turned promptly to a nice stealthy colour of pure white after I understood the words and I prepared to meet my Maker, and her Father, to beg for forgiveness. The visions filling my mind let me nearly miss the energetic head shaking of the Anima and her quite resolute voice.

"Ohh, absolutely not. It was my own request that brought the event to bear. All fault should thus lay with me. I merely wished to hone my own skills in battle. My sleep has lead to a diminishing in my skills, which have never been impressive in the first place. Several times my brothers had to point out weaknesses in my fighting style. Thus, to be able to stand up against any further fallen Astartes, I will need to improve my techniques. Commissar Cain and his expert fighting form is helping me admirably with that, and I hope we can work closely together in the future."

The length and complexity of the High Gothic went as far over my head as the average orbital shuttle, but from the colouring of the Senshi's cheeks and the look that Amberley gave me they were talking about my vivisection and following sacrifice to some unnamed dark deity.

Well, this impression had more to do with Amberley's look than any anything I sensed from the Anima, but inquisitorial enthusiasm made more than up for it.

"While this is only a small outpost base on the fringes of the Imperium, your Holy Majesty, I still hope that the assorted personnel have attended to Your every Sacred Wish and your Holy Majesty has not been displeased despite the turmoil surrounding the return of your Holy Persona."

"Oh, everyone has been very friendly and polite, Lady Inquisitor. I am more than happy to be here. Although…if it is not too much, I would like to make a small request, honoured Inquisitor."

The end of the Princess's speech had sounded quite timid and tender, something about a request. I braced myself for anything that may come and Amberley nodded her head in compliancy, obvious to the sheer danger our sanity may soon be exposed too.

"But most certainly, oh Sacred One. I am merely Your servant, what might You desire?"

Raising one hand and putting a strain of hair behind her ear, the Princess answered hesitantly.

"Might it be possible that you, and everyone else, would refer to me as Hotaru? I think it is nice that you hold father in such high regard, he is always so busy with one thing or the other; And in the end, he wants to keep everyone safe. Regardless, I would really prefer it if you would not use such religious themes when referring to me; it is scary."

I had little idea what they had talked about, but I was pretty sure that the Anima had requested something slightly improper. Judging from Amberley's twitching it was either a request for a holiday with her family or to mingle with the troops in some kind of tea ceremony, with the serving of the tea provided by the Holy Anima herself.

"Hol…Your Majesty, there are certain… circumstances to consider; protocols. Since the last time you walked the galaxy things have changed, the Imperium has changed. In all good consciousness, I can not advise you to radically change Imperial policies and customs."

A weary sigh escaped the form of our Subject of Worship and she deflated a little, and I was greeted with the sight of the person who had killed a Bloodthirster with a simple slash withdrawing in a shell.

"Very well; if that is really your desire, I will abide by it."

This time, Amberley positively cringed. I admit, had I not been the paragon of virtue and duty that I am according to Imperial Information, I might have felt a certain kind of amusement and smug pleasure that someone else had to discuss proper Imperial protocol with His Holy Daughter. But bravely, she pressed on.

"Well; yes, your Majesty, I believe that would help stabilize our current situation. Furthermore, I again wish to express my utmost concerns for Your plan to not evacuate Your Sacred Self and instead confront the Astartes onboard their own Battle Barge. I wish to point out that the risk for your own Blessed Person is extreme. The Angels of Damnation have clear orders, all the evidences they might see support these orders, and their dedication and, well, single mindedness has made them one of the most preferred chapters to be drafted for inquisitorial support. It shames me to say so, but in my opinion the possibility that they would open fire on Your Holy Self is almost a certainty, stemming from their own conviction in the mission and not recognizing your Holy Self."

A kind smile was her answer, all thoughts about a shell were forgotten and it was nearly as if the Anima of the Imperium was growing in front of us, her warm, soft presence filling the room.

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Inquisitor. But unless our assets can indeed evacuate the entirety of the planetary population, including our troops, the Exterminatus has to be stopped at any cost. There is no victory in trading one life for the other, there is only death.

All of us, no matter name, gender or position are only servants. Servants to humanity.

You, me, my brothers, my sisters, my father. We live for each other.

These are the words of Serenity, and these I hold dear.

My family has already given their lives for us. Their sacrifice shall not be forgotten. I will not falter and fall short of their example.

I am Hotaru, Senshi of Saturn, Anima of the Imperium, Guardian of the Princess Serenity. And by my will, the Imperium will learn to live again. Nothing less I will accept."

When her speech ended, my heart was light and my head cleared, I was ready to take on half a dozen gargants if need be, but I was even more ready to lay my weapons down and pick up the tools of a builder, a farmer or a medic.

But even more than her warmth and kindness I felt the utter strength, the sheer will of Herself filling the room. And I pitied the fool who might try to stand against Her.

"Yes, Your Holiness, it shall be as you say." Amberley's word were faint, awed; she too must have felt the sheer conviction, the vision that the Anima projected onto us; the Glory of Heavenly Divinity shining down on the mortals of a lost, forsaken world.

"Do not despair. The long night has not yet arrived. The darkness will abide by our light."

We needed a moment to recover from the sheer presence we had just experienced. It still came as a shock to encounter someone with such a power, such an ability to influence and project who was not a doomed Heretic sprouting blasphemous phrases of Chaos.

I shivered when I thought about her words; she had meant every syllable of them. Even more, she believed she was able to back every single syllable up. I was suddenly very afraid of the outcome.

"Holy Anima, we will fulfil you every command as you wish." I am not sure that Amberley really knew to what she agreed right then, I very much believe she would have reacted otherwise if she did. But I was only just beginning to grasp it, either.

The Holy Anima, the Daughter of the Emperor who had just inspired us and cemented our loyalty to her, blushed and shrank into her self, dispelling her super human quality to which she had ascended in our eyes.

"I…thank you, but please consider. It is not me that you serve, it is the Imperium that you serve. No. Even more, you should be serving Humanity."

Amberley nodded, finding her balance again and began to address the final item of our little briefing. She was as deeply moved as I was, but with iron will and discipline she suppressed anything else and focused on the points she wanted to make.

"Of course, your Holy Majesty. Nonetheless, there is something I feel I should bring to your attention, oh Sacred Princess."

Said princess tilted her head slightly and looked in askance at the Inquisitor.

"What do you wish to bring to my attention, Lady Vail?"

Slowly, the Inquisitor reached into her quite nice looking robe, which fitted her shapely body rather well, I might add, and retrieved the same small tube I had already inspected earlier.

"Recently, I have come in position of item, Divine Princess. It was planted within the chambers of a member of my entourage. We have no idea what it is, but it bears your royal seal, Sacred Highness."

Reaching out with a hand and, after a short hesitation from Amberley's side, picking up the tube, the Anima turned it around and inspected it from all sides.

"How strange. I have never seen an item like this before, and I can not recall it from my past. What is its purpose?"

Amberley offered s shrug, which managed well to confer that she didn't know frak, but the movement would have not been out of place in a palace of the nobility.

"We do not know, Your Holy Highness. Preliminary tests have concluded that it is no bomb, but that there is something small inside it. We did not find any mechanism to open it."

"I seen no either. Coming around lots have. Not small Adamantium dubes, at all."

Judging from the look Amberley gave, my High Gothic was actually worse than I thought. Well, excuse me. I had little opportunity to practice it with the average Guardsmen. And even I did not think it was a good idea to talk to myself.

Clearly pondering the object, turning studying it, the Anima replied, wearing a thoughtful expression.

"Hum, that is curious. And you say you have no information where it originates from? Maybe we should force it open, then; there is the possibility that we might find a hint about its purpose inside."

The blonde Inquisitor offered another regal looking shrug.

"Unfortunately, it's pure Adamantium, Your Divine Highness; while we do in fact have equipment to affect it, unless the content is also made from Adamantium, it will perish under the stress."

The girl nodded in acceptance, conceding the point.

"Then I would suggest we cut it open, carefully."

Hmm, I got the impression that my High Gothic was indeed worse than I thought. On the other hand, Amberley had also a mildly confused look on her face.

"Your Royal Highness. This is Adamantium. We can not cut it, only heavy weaponry of extreme yields is going to affect it."

The younger; well, maybe younger; at least younger looking female shrugged, far less regal than Amberley and replied blithely.

"If you prefer, I could cut the object open without causing stress for the inside."

Well, yes. We should have thought of that. Stupid of us.

My blonde companion choose just to ignore the ludicrous part of the statement and proved to me once more that she was a full fledged Inquisitor.

"That could be dangerous, Your Divine Highness; while several psykers have probed the object, there is still the possibility that it contains a plague of one of the dark gods, Nurgel."

Yes, that was a natural assumption after all. If I would plant a nigh indestructible object somewhere, it would obviously contain a deadly plague to kill the person who opened it.

Still, Amberley had a point. Maybe. Now that she had voiced it, I was not ready to bet the live of the Anima on it, either. Maybe there was a different, infectious plague in the room than we thought.

"Hum; well, yes. That might be a problem. I could just open it in space."

Obviously, my High Gothic failed me at this time. Responding to our stares, the Anima deigned to explain the wisdom she had just graced us mere mortals with.

"Ohh, well. Ami explained it to me briefly once. Interstellar space is a very good isolator or containment area. Small micro-organisms suited to atmospheric life have no possibility to survive the conditions of space, and will die within seconds, before they have any chance to adapt."

I still felt like someone had hit me over the head with a wet grox. That is not a pleasant experience, I might add. The average grox is quite heavy and adding fluids to it seemed to somehow only increase their smell. But I digress.

"Your Holy Majesty, I am not sure I understand the full implications of your plan?"

Amberley kinda looked like I felt, but at least she managed a coherent, if quite disbelieving sounding answer.

"Ohh. What I am trying to say is that I could teleport outside of the planetary atmosphere, and cut the object carefully open. Any pathogens inside should die nearly instantly then, its completely harmless."

I had the impression the Anima wanted to tell us she would teleport into space. Without protective gear. To cut open a tube made from pure Adamantium. But we shouldn't worry. She would cut carefully.

"That… is certainly a plan, your Royal Highness. But maybe we should use one of the air locks inside the base. Our Auspexes should tell us about any plagues, and we could equip your Divine Being with a Breather Mask. As a protection against any contamination, your Sacred Majesty."

It sounded like Amberley had pondered the various dangers the tube could pose for quite some time. But then, it kinda was her job. Still. What the frak? Outer Space?

Oblivious to my slight problem with some of the suggestions, the Anima nodded in agreement.

"That seems to be an excellent plan, Lady Inquisitor."

I hoped no one would ask me why I was standing outside this air lock. Or maybe I should hope for it. The explanation might get me at least some down time with the medicae.

While I still pondered the best strategy to achieve maximum downtime, and mentally reviewed the medicae with the biggest size of 'social skills' available to us, the air lock opened and the Senshi stepped out, wearing her full battle garb. One hand handling her weapon, the other holding a clear cut tube. Well, actually the pieces. It seemed the Senshi had indeed been careful not to damage the contents; and carefully sliced parts from one end till she reached the cavity. I decided to not dwell to long on the comparison between Adamantium and the average breakfast sausage.

"This item you brought is indeed quite mysterious, Inquisitor Vail. The only content was this stripe of papyrus."

The Anima did sound faintly curious, and not utterly baffled like I felt. She handed the stripe to Amberley. Using my height to its full advantage, I looked over her shoulder. There was a string of numbers written on the papyrus or whatever that material was. I had not even a clue what papyrus was supposed to be. The string of numbers looked suspiciously like a set of coordinates, followed by a Symbol I did not recognize. But judging from the intake of breath, Amberley did.

"This… is this what I think it is, your Royal Highness?"

The Anima nodded slowly, a happy, hoping note entering her voice.

"Indeed. We should travel there once the current crisis is overcome."


	12. Chapter 11

Author's random babbling: I am very sorry to everyone, I seem to be inable to operate the software properly. I did indeed miss to upload a chapter. The new content is now the current chapter 9, labeled in the index as chapter 10. The old chapter nine is broken down in chapter 10(11) and 11(12) now. Minor adjustments have been made to chapter four(five), nothing particular worth re-reading I believe.  
Furthermore, I did add formatting to the already uploaded chapters. I am sorry, again, but I failed to notice that did eat all my formatting. Kudos to everyone who still managed to get through the story, for my experience the later chapters were barely readable without the formatting due to unannounced scene breaks and worse.  
Work on the second arc continues, but it will take a few weeks. I was tempted to stop it for now and go over the first arc again, because I found a lot of things that could use improvements or a bit more fleshing out. But if I was a reader, I would not want to wait for the next arc any longer than absolutely necessary. Maybe I'll do a revision in the far future. Somewhere close to the year 40k or something.  
Again, sorry for the inconvenience, I will check what manages to get uploaded more closely in the future.

* * *

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison, Mess Hall 3-c**

Weerd looked up as Larne walked tiredly into the mess hall and slouched down in the stool next to him. Turning his head towards his friend, Weerd addressed him.

"How was your shift? Knocked some of them off?"

Grunting in denial, the other soldiers shucked back a mouthful of the brew that the locals around here used for amesec. Tasted like old coolant, if anyone asked him, so it wasn't all that bad compared to the stuff they got other times.

"Nah, didn't fight anyone in our sector. The PDF had a bit of trouble in one of their zones, but they threw so much heavy equipment at it that it went down faster than the panties of the average Twi'leg girl."

Weerd shook his head, still in disbelief about the frak he had seen on this Emperor blessed planet. A damn Baneblade. More than one, acting in formation.

"Damn. Almost makes me want to have that much metal running for us, too."

Putting his bottle down, Larne grunted disparaging.

"Yeah, sure. Then you get either stationed on a hell hole like this or you get shipped of to Armageddon and have a Titan stepping on you. I pretty much prefer to stay with the infantry; at least you see the frakkers that are trying to off you then and can blow their shit apart."

Eyeing the bottle of amesec jealously, Weerd contemplated getting one for himself; after all, practical the whole 4th company was here and most of them were drinking.

"Yeah, true. Well, it's not as if the Departo Munitorum exactly asks for our opinion. But speaking of opinions; do you have clue why we have to be here?"

"Frakked if I know… If it would be up to me, I would now be with Tasha, getting to know her a bit better." Larne ended his sentence with a smug grin.

The familiar sound of heavy boots in precise lockstep sounded from the entrance.

A red phalanx of robed and armed giants marched through the hall, in a classic wedge formation. Not that anyone was trying to stop, or even hinder, them. All over the hall there was a sharp intake of breath and revered silence. Everyone recognized them.

The procession reached the podium at the end of the hall, and it was as if a red curtain was flowing around it. Until a dark-haired head appeared and the Sacred Anima of Saturn looked over the gathered troops with a regal gaze.

Drinks and foods stood forgotten on tables, muttered prayers and reverend looks filled the hall. Several soldiers sank to their knees, but the others snapped smartly to attention.

Faint red coloured the youthful face of the Senshi, but her eyes seemed to find the eye of each and every soldier in the room. Weerd felt not only respect and holy awe filling the room.

He felt more. He was not alone; he was here, together with his fellow comrades. And they were content, no…they were relaxed, comfortable. A warm feeling permeated the room.

And then, the Anima of the Imperium began to speak, Her voice filling the room like a Heavenly Hymn, carrying through it without any amplification, touching every soldier, connecting to them.

"I believe everyone of you has heard of me already. I am Hotaru, the Senshi of Saturn, Anima of the Imperium. And I am here for a reason.

I wish to thank every soldier of the 597th Valhallan's for their endeavours in protecting the population of Hades VI. You have faced the relentless lust for combat of the Orks, even the gruesome forces serving Chaos, and not faltered, not hesitated. Your sweat and the blood of your friends has bought freedom and life for the people of Hades VI.

It makes me proud to stand together with you for humanity, protecting our people and denying our enemies. It gives me hope; that people like you still live, still fight, still endure for humanity.

I have never been a great warrior, but I have learned enough at the hands of my brothers to recognize warriors. You are warriors.

And so have been your friends who are not able to be with you anymore. They shall not be forgotten. I have conversed with the leadership of Hades VI and a monument will be erected, displaying the name of everyone who gave his life in protecting the people of Hades VI. Their memory will be honoured, and respect will be paid for them for as long as there is any human living on Hades VI.

Stand tall, stand proud, but never forget whom you serve. Not the High Lords of Terra; not the Imperium; not me. You are serving Humanity. You are their shield; you stand between Mankind and the dark. You are the Imperial Guard and we shall stand together."

Fortunately, instead of being bored and waiting for our friendly neighbourhood Astartes to deliver an Exterminatus to us and eradicating all live on the planet, we had these fun little group activities.

Like briefings of the senior command staff.

Joining the resident freak duo, as well as Kasteen and Amberley in the meeting, I was a bit surprised that the Anima was not present. Judging from the arrangement of seats we were pretty much complete. Well, my finger tips didn't regret her absence all that much.

What surprised me more was Pelton standing behind his Inquisitor. Normally, Amberley used his abilities to hit people, not to plan strategy. He was actually pretty good at the hitting part.

"How nice of you to join us, too, Commissar Cain. Then let us begin this meeting, gentlemen, and of course, lady."

Amberley wasted no time, chastising me and starting the overall briefing in just two sentences; not exactly a record for her but not bad at all.

"I am aware that this meeting is a bit irregular, but so is the entire situation. The purpose of this planning session is to determine our further course of action, if we manage to avoid or escape the destruction of this world."

I had an uneasy feeling about the direction Amberley was taking this. I had had more time to ponder the whole situation and I could see what she was trying to propose. But she lacked some of the experiences I had made here and was running right into the maw of the Carnifex. Kasteen was looking uneasy, too.

I had to come up with something, fast.

"While I am sure that Inquisitor Vail has prepared a quite efficient briefing, there are some concerns I, as a representative of the Commissariat, want to bring to your attention."

Amberley did not even look at me as I derailed her briefing; a slight tension around her eyes was the only sign of her surprise. We had worked together often enough that she trusted me if I barged in one of her plans on purpose. And waited to flail me alive until we were in private.

"There is no need for any concealment tactics, Commissar. The absence of the royal Princess makes the intentions of Inquisitor Vail obvious."

The cool reply of Colonel Soudisi sounded through the room as he looked Amberley over. I did not like his gaze one bit. I was sure the temperature in the room drooped around twenty degrees and everyone could feel the sudden tension. Except Colonel Radev, who didn't even tense. But I had felt less threatened by Assault Terminators.

Pelton had pretty much the same reaction and was completely focussed on the black form, his hand close to his Bolt Pistol. I tried to tell him with my eyes that was a 'bad' idea. I had seen what that guy did with his Power Sword. Kasteen was gripping the table hard, probably wondering if she should just dive for cover or try and stop either of them. She was braver than me.

"Oh? Is that so, Colonel Soudisi? Would you care to enlighten me then as to what my intentions maybe?"

Without any reaction to being baited by an Inquisitor, Soudisi just nodded, hands lying flat on the table and plainly stated his point as if going over an ammunition report to the Munitorum and not defending himself against someone with the authority to kill, torture or main him without requiring to give any reason.

"Of course, Inquisitor. You wish to address the future command structure of our currently joined forces and our operations in the immediate future. Especially, you wish to address 'difficulties' in the chain of command now that someone with sufficient authority to launch an Exterminatus seems intend on impeding our joint operation."

Yes, I, too, considered occasions when people were trying to kill everyone on the planet I am on, including me, an impediment of my operations. And I made a habit of calling out an Inquisitor on 'difficulties' in the chain of command. If the Adeptus Mechanicus ever found out what Soudisi used for blood, they could probable remove all concerns for the cooling in our plasma weaponry.

"Indeed, Colonel, you seem…surprisingly well versed in the arts of politics and inquisitorial procedure."

On first glance Amberley was as cool as the Colonel, but I could read how tense she was from the ways her hand flexed. At least she had the instinctual impulse of all members of the Inquisition under control; namely, to shot anyone who dared to open their mouth and speak up against them.

"It comes with my … profession."

Had the atmosphere been any less tense I might have snorted upon that remark. Sometimes, politics did interfere with the duties of a PDF Colonel, but they 'usually' tried to avoid antagonizing an inquisitor about it and just busied them selves with boot cleaning for the planetary governor.

Their starring match got interrupted by Kasteen.

"As of now, we are out of communications anyway. That means that the highest ranking regular Officer can assume overall military command. Which would be me."

Her voice kinda trailed off as the other occupants of the room focused on her. As I had mentioned, she was way braver than me, although I began to revise my judgement of her intellect or will to survive.

Amberley took pity on the now quite pale Kasteen, and presented her plan to the slightly chilly, for Valhallan standards, audience. Somewhere, I could hear an ice wolf how while jittering.

"Indeed, but that holds only true for as long as we are out of communications or on Hades VI. Without a doubt, a man as well versed as you, Colonel Soudisi, is aware that neither the 597th Valhallans, nor your PDF forces would be permitted to leave Hades VI on their own inclination, even if some capable troop ships were available. Without orders from Sector or Segmentum Command, abandoning your positions would be considered treason. On the other hand, staying on Hades VI after the current crisis and protecting the Holy Anima would probably invite another attack, of even more capable enemies."

The Inquisitor paused briefly, letting her words sink it. I had avoided thinking about it too much, but I had come to the same conclusions as her. The situation was… well and truly frakked.

"*Hiss* We are aware of this. *Hiss*"

Yes; so much for intimidating the locals. I could tell that Amberley was becoming annoyed. To my experience, annoying Amberley was not wise. On the other hand, I would have kicked her leg under the table if I thought it would help. You don't argue with people who have a Titan at their beck and call. I am sure that is written down somewhere. If not, its written down now.

"I am glad that you are aware of the problem. Fortunately, I already have a solution for your quite serious problem. An Inquisitor has the authority to requisition regular military forces and place them under her own command, effectively removing them from the chain of command in order to use these units for the best of the Imperium."

Amberley grinned like a shark as she presented her plan, looking in the round.

Even the twitching of my palms did not prepare me for the next few minutes.

"We refuse, Inquisitor Vail."

I half expected Pelton to draw his pistol and splatter the brain of the obnoxious PDF colonel across the room. Well, a very small half expected that. The other half was busy with painting the scenario of what would happen if Pelton actually did 'try' to draw his weapon.

Even Amberley needed a moment to come back from that rebuttal.

"You refuse? Colonel Soudisi, an inquisitorial order is not a request. It is an order, and it is your duty as servant of His Divine Majesty to comply by it. Besides, it is your only alternative aside from being blown up together with your planet or being marked as a traitor to the Imperium."

Unperturbed, the grey haired ice block shook his head and calmly explained.

"You misunderstand the situation, Lady Vail. I am not talking in my capacity as Colonel of the 1st Tartaros Guards. I am talking in my capacity as commander of the Royal Saturnian Guard. As such, my undivided loyalty lies solely with Princess Saturn. Any possible attempts to subvert or redirect said loyalty would be met with severe consequences."

While his voice was completely non modulated as always, Pelton reacted to the barely veiled threat and shifted his weight, putting his hand directly on his bolt pistol and glaring down on the Colonel. After a 'glance' from Colonel Radev somehow 'transmitted' through his black face plate, he calmly removed his hand and from the weapon and stepped back. Pelton was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

Anyways, I had to do something to defuse this whole minefield of a conversation before it blew all of them up, together with me.

"Let us all stay calm and consider our possibilities. I am sure that everyone in this room has only the best intentions for the Imperium and His Holy Daugther."

That much at last was true; although I was not sure we all had the same priorities with said topics. To be honest, I wasn't even sure about my own priorities. Aside from surviving, of course.

Amberley took a deep breath and gave me a thankful look, pulling herself together and going on.

"While your loyalty to Her Royal Highness is, of course, admirable, Colonel Soudisi, the facts suggest that we need to make some adjustments to our position. While there is no doubt about the Holyness and nature of the Princess, my consultation of the Imperial Archives available to me and my savant Mott have concluded that Princess Saturn does not hold any position of official authority in the Imperium of Mankind. In short, She is legally incapable of designating you as Her personal guard or to transfer your troops to another basis, not to mention another planet."

Now it was my turn to look in surprise at Amberley. No official authority at all? I had pondered the official authority of the Anima for quite some time now, and even attempted to make some discrete investigations, but our regimental resources did hold no candle to an Inquisitor's private Archives. Kasteen looked aghast as well, no doubt as blindsided as me.

"On the contrary, Lady Vail. Considering the circumstances, Princess Saturn has indeed said authority. Due to the absence of her Father from office and the unknown nature of her siblings whereabouts, Princess Saturn assumes the position of Regent until the details of succession are worked out."

What the frak? Only the sheer and utter shock that was written on Amberley's face prevented me from asking if she had heard the same thing as me. Kasteen had become rigid like a board and Pelton looked as if he had found a Great Unclean One in his breakfast. What the frak?

"Colonel Soudisi. I advise you to refrain from uttering such heresy ever again. The Holy Emperor rests on His Golden Throne on Terra and guides us all with His Power. Aside from that, the High Lords of Terra deal with the more mundane aspects of directing our war efforts and the Imperial Law is very clear on this point. His Holy Daughters, while deserving our undying respect, are not part of the official power hierarchy of the Imperium."

Other Inquisitors had executed higher ranking officers for less. On the other hand; Amberley was a realist, and we were not exactly in a position of strength at the moment. Somehow considering that our location was the centre of the freakiest PDF garrison I had ever encountered. And I am including the Funk Patrol in that sum.

Calmly putting a dataslate on the table, Colonel Soudisi continued, as if he had not just been pretty much threatened with summary execution by an Inquisitor.

"Quite the contrary. According to this Codex Imperialis, the Rule of Succession applies. The conditions are clearly defined, and without any doubt fulfilled in the present day."

He gave the slate a little push, and, hesitantly, a female hand picked it up. After a short manipulation of the runes and a prayer to the machine spirit the owner of said hand looked up in astonishment.

"This Codex is dated M29.512."

I really disliked dealing with the locals on Hades VI. It was just too much stress on my heart.

M29.512.

"Precisely. You will note that the Codex is specifically ratified by His Holy Majesty, the Emperor of Mankind. In person. Addendum under the authority of certain Imperial Organisations, namely the Ecclesiarchy after the Horus Heresy, which limits or outright removes the power of the Royal Family and reduces Divinity to mere Icons and Symbols are not recognised on Hades VI."

While I was still reeling from the implications and machinations he hinted at, Amberley somehow blocked that out and tried to focus on what was at hand.

"Colonel, I understand your….position, but..."

"*hiss* This is not *hiss* open for discussion. *hiss* Inquisitor. *hiss*"

I cringed at the sheer finality in that statement.

But fortunately, Amberley was a woman that knew how to choose her battles. Nonetheless, her eyes glittered with passion as she leaned forward.

"That is exactly what I wish to avoid! You must see reason, Colonel; a schism in the Imperium must be avoided at all costs. We can not even begin to contemplate the consequences if our enemies caught us divided."

The passion I could feel died a cold and harsh dead somewhere in the middle of the table it seemed, and Colonel Soudisi shook his head slightly, without any special accentuation.

"No, Inquisitor. There are those that stand with His Imperial Majesty and His Daughter, and those that are traitors. I deal with politics and long term strategies. My colleague deals with traitors."

"*Hiss*…*Hiss*"

I had the sudden urge to exclaim that I was not a traitor.

Nonetheless….our situation had not necessarily become easier. Not by a long shot.

Maybe I could lament my plight to the incoming Marines.

**A dark, lonely place**

The room was dark and silent. Only the subdued light of a glow lamp and the faint glimmer of dataslates offered their light A small hand taping against runes and controls was the only sound to be heard.

Two stacks of dataslates took up space on a simple desk. Neatly stacked on top of each other.

Deactivating one slate, and putting it precisely on top of the left stack, the hand moved to the other stack and took the upper most slate from it. Patiently, the hand fumbled with controls and runes, not one word was uttered, until finally, the dataslate lit up and its display revealed its contents.

The dark haired reader's eyes carefully explored its contents, the unfamiliar language making any progress slow. Not that the sheer horrors revealed would warrant any haste, except maybe in escaping from them. But there was no escape. Not for her. Not for these she did read about. It had all already happened, nearly transforming this task into something blasphemous, the opening of graves long closed, disturbing the rest and the honour of the dead. Reawakening the horror and misery which they had experienced and in the end succumbed to.

This would not do. She would not stand for this. She could not stand for this.

Everything she knew, everything she had learned, everything she believed were at conflict with what she read. And no one knew. No one realised. No one cared.

But she did. She would. Whether alone or not, she would not stand down or rest.

She could not fail. Too much depended on her. Their memories, their dreams, their wishes.

Lives, futures and whole worlds. The fate of more than just a race.

She never stopped to consider what would happen if she should fail. It did not bear thinking about.

In the distance, she could hear the familiar, luring call of the Silence. Comforting and soothing. All was Silence.

**Hades VI, PDF Garrison**

Sometimes, I pondered if I would not be able to serve Him on Terra better in another capacity instead that of a Commissar dealing with an angry and frustrated inquisitor. For example, as a frontline skirmisher against the average Hive Fleet.

At least Amberley was unlikely to just shoot me on a whim, being actually pretty sane and civilised for a member of His Sanctioned Sociopath Corps. Although she did not exactly look like it at the moment.

"Ciaphas. What is it about this world? Is there any sane person left here except for us?"

"Well; there are Kasteen, and Broklaw…" I offered weakly. Only to duck my head as she gave me a glare that put the standard issue Las gun to shame.

"You know what I mean. I can understand that the Holy Anima thinks differently than we do; She is Divinity after all. But these PDF soldiers? And I am not only talking about their colonels, although they are the worst."

Well, yes. That was hard to argue with. I had met some exotic characters in my time, but these were almost as if they came from another world. Or maybe just another time. From a place far, far away.

"I am pretty sure they are exactly what they believe they are. The descendants of the Royal Saturnian Guard. In spirit, loyalty and equipment. They are fielding weapons and war machines I have never seen before. I have not seen a single piece of their equipment that does not appear to be a STC or some equivalent. They must have preserved it since the Horus Heresy. I don't understand how, or even why they are here, not to mention how they managed to keep their loyalty and sheer spirit."

Amberley huffed and winded down a bit. Shaking her head in disbelief, she muttered on. I could feel with her. Everything was so much out of the norm, I felt like hanging in the air above a hot drop zone. Without a drop ship.

"Loyalty and spirit. As if. They are utterly mad and just plain… abnormal. At least I have a guess as to why they are here. The Adeptus Mechanicus group has the mission to study and monitor Hades V, for some unknown effects about a Zone of Death. There is no entry in the databases as to when their mission started, but I am now tempted to believe that they were transferred here directly after the revered Senshi went to sleep, along with the Royal Guard as an escort. Still, I almost wish they were not here."

As much as a part of me wanted to agree, my soldier side had to speak up in defence of the local forces. No matter how uneasy they made me feel.

"I for one am glad that they are here; any regular PDF regiments would have been eaten alive by the Chaos forces that went down in Hades Prime." Knowing Chaos, I was meaning that quite literally. There was a reason why they were the Great Enemy.

"The Royal Guard went through them like a Chain Sword through gretchlings. With standard PDF units… I am not sure how many of us you would have found alive, Amberley."

Conceding the point, she nodded and gave me a much gentler look.

"True, true. And I am glad that you managed to come out of the operation in one piece. Still, the PDF may very well have their use, but the trouble they can cause is not something I wish to ponder for too long. If this ancient Codex gets out, and the Anima presents herself to the Imperium, there won't just be a rogue Inquisitor after her blood. Half the Imperial Leadership will try to kill her, and half the populace will lay at her feet, praying."

I nearly sputtered upon the thought. Harming, killing an Anima of the Imperium? A Holy Icon of Her stature? One of the Emperor's own daughters? No one would dare to even think about it.

"Amberley! You can't be serious. Actively trying to kill an Anima of the Imperium?"

She sighed and raised a hand to massage her temple, suddenly looking less vibrant and youthful than her usual self, and more like the hardened veteran Inquisitor she was. Decades seemed to grow on her.

"There are Heretic's everywhere. Do you think the Exterminatus that is upon us comes by chance? Although in this case I am not even sure who is the Heretic and who not. Unfortunately, lamenting it won't let us progress. We need to be prepared and have contingency plans."

I was still appalled by the thought. I knew that His Most Unscrupulous Malefactors which most people simple shortened to 'Inquisitors' were not always the most considerate of His citizens or all the time aiming to strive for the best of the Imperium. But this… going this far in their crusade for their own beliefs and machinations? That was hard to swallow, even for me.

"But who could want to harm the Anima? A Daughter of the Emperor…That's…"

A matter-of-fact gaze greeted me, but her face softened quickly and she answered me with a sombre tone, maybe even with a faint echo of pity in it.

"The Inquisition has may different Ordo's and factions. So has the Imperium. Some are more radical than others. Most have pretty obscure aims and goals. Besides; think about it, Ciaphas. Before you came here, before you laid your eyes on her Holiness. Would you have felt as strong? As passionate? As firm in your conviction to protect Her, to let Her hope guide the Imperium?"

I knew that, I was not that naïve. And hardly anyone even remotely sane had any positive opinion about the Inquisition as a whole. Just… to this extent. Was nothing holy anymore? And that was not even a hyperbole.

But I could see Amberley's reasoning. She was right. Before Hades VI, I would have doubted that anyone or anything, be it Primarch, Anima or miracle could affect me this deeply. Kindle the miniscule flame of my faith and raise it to such blazing glory. Others would be lacking that experience, and maybe just see the Anima as another important dignitary and official of the Imperium. But she was so much more. I could feel it.

Nonetheless, no matter my righteous outrage, and I felt as weird as you realizing that 'I' was feeling 'righteous outrage', I had to address the problems at hand. Namely, a certain Battle Barge carrying Cyclonic Torpedoes.

"Our first priority must be to keep the Anima alive and safe." And me, of course. That was important. "And that means stopping the Battle Barge. But that's only the first step. Whoever is giving the orders to the Angels of Damnation; I doubt that he will give up easily if we survive or manage to get away."

My friend nodded, supporting my conclusion.

"Of course, we need to find out who is behind this operation, their intentions and then devise a plan to counter them. All while dodging their attempts to eliminate us. And they are not pulling any punches."

Yes, I could hardly imagine anything more overkill than to order an Exterminatus on a whole world just to kill one person. The sheer scale of the force our enemies were willing to use was frightening. But on the other hand, it also gave me an idea.

"Maybe they don't know what they are doing." Under Amberley's questioning eyes, I continued. "Think about it. The timing. You did start your journey before the 597th Valhallans were anywhere close to Hades VI. Whoever sent the Angels, must have sent them not much later than your departure. Maybe they don't realize what is on Hades VI. Or who. Maybe they are just reacting to something in the dark from their point of view."

She gave me a placid shrug and her answer brought me firmly down on Hades VI again.

"Yes. And maybe we are all part in a grand scheme of Tzeentch, playing directly in his tentacles, the mysterious message included. We can take stabs in the dark and second guess our every step till the Eye of Terror swallows us all, but that doesn't help. We need to act and react in the now, to what little information we have."

The life and even thought process of an Inquisitor was not made for me. I don't think I am exactly stupid, but moving like a ballerina through delicate web of lies, miss-directions and intrigues, only guessing at the truth and yet facing potential deadly consequences was not something I desired. Or thought myself able to keep it up for any length of time. Shaking my head, I decided to suggest the obvious.

"Under more… normal circumstances I would suggest informing Zyvan about the situation, and linking up with him and his forces. Ordering the elimination of a full Guards Regiment and the destruction of a world is no small feat, especially if you want to keep it quite. But to wipe out a full Guards Division and a Lord General of Zyvan's standing? I doubt there is any Inquisitor who has the resources to do it."

At least, I really hoped so. Any person with that much personal power was a frightening prospect.

"There is none. I would know about it. But you know our problem. She won't go for Zyvan. Not yet." Her words were accompanied by a frustrated grimace, which I pretty much shared.

If we were in big trouble now, how much worse would we fare if the guess of the Anima was indeed correct?

"So…it is authentic?"

My voice was more firm than I felt, upon the prospect of another miracle just waiting to be discovered.

"Yes. The Sigil on our mysterious message is the Royal sigil of Mercury. And Her Highness believes it to be a sign of Her Sister. She wants to investigate the coordinates."

I briefly closed my eyes, but instead of dread or gloom, hope bloomed up in my chest and I could not help but feel immense relieve upon the news. I had not dared to believe that the Anima truly had recognized the sigil correctly. Maybe it was foolishness, of course she would know it, better than anyone alive today, yet I simply had not dared to hope.

"Emperor and Princess. Could it be? Another Anima alive and unharmed?"

Amberley sighed wistfully and looked at the empty air. She may play the role of the unrelenting Inquisitor towards the locals, and to a lesser degree, towards me, for now, but I could see how deeply the current affairs affected her. Emperor, I could not blame her. I doubted there was a single being in the galaxy that could be unaffected by this. Well. Except for one Colonel.

"Who knows, Ciaphas… A week ago, I knew that every Anima of the Imperium had perished thousands of years ago. Now I have talked to one in person, and she wants to go and find another. It scares me."

Putting on my best heroic face, I offered my support, sounding far more confident than I felt.

I had become awfully good at outright lying.

"We will pull through… and find a solution for this mess, Amberley. After all, can there be any doubt now that a Holy Power watches over us?"

Flashing me a brief smile, some of the tension fell off of her, before her small smile developed into a full blown grin.

"Well, I would hardly have believed it a week ago, but right now, our Faith is what carries both of us, isn't it?"

I chuckled upon her remark. True, neither of us was the most devout follower of the Ecclesiarchy's doctrines no matter what our offices or reputation might lead someone to believe. Usually, we had a more hands-on approach on the problems of the Imperium. Or our continued well being. Something that even now I did not want to let go.

"Still, I would feel a lot better if we could get Zyvan's support, and alert half the Segmentum to our situation instead of running off to Warp knows where…"

Amberley continued to grin, her amusement about my grumbling clear.

"Well, unless you want to explain the whole situation to her Highness; for example, that a traitor in the highest ranks of the Inquisition is out to kill her, while she is pretty much powerless and alone in the galaxy, I don't see how we could convince her."

I winced as I recalled a conversation I wanted to forget. Badly.

"I… don't think we should tell her about it. The information about the Horus Heresy has hit her hard, Amberley. Really hard. I am not sure how well she is holding it together. Although I would hardly call her powerless."

The blonde woman regarded me with a doubtful look, but shrugged and continued unperturbed.

"Be that as it may, as of now, we don't have much of an option. Except for going along with her plans and steering them a bit in a direction that will not make us all crash and burn. If we survive the Battle Barge, and Her Highness still intends to leave the system, we need to accompany her. And convince her take the 597th with us. The Ceres' does not have room for anymore, and keeping the maniacs of the PDF here on Hades VI can only be good." Something gave me the impression that she was not exactly a fan of the local PDF. Probably something about treating an Inquisitor like the average messenger.

"Considering that She virtually knows nothing about the galaxy nowadays; what exactly did you tell her about the 41st Millenium?"

She just had to ask, did she? I did not want to think about this, but it seemed there was little choice; so I took a long breath and shook my head.

"Too much, too little." A deep sigh escaped me and I slouched in the chair, memories still painful. The sheer agony, horror and despair on a face so young. On an Icon so Holy. A symbol of hope, literally crushed by the simple, ghastly words of the tale I had related to her. A tale of pain and misery on a galaxy grand scale and yet so personal, private, in her family.

"I told her about the Horus Heresy of course, the fate of… her family. A bit of the history that lead up to the present and a rough, well, very rough overview about the Imperium now and its present state. I… did not have the heart to tell her everything. We need to be careful; gentle, in what we tell her. Too much, and I fear that she will snap. She is Divinity, yes. But I have seen it before; the bravest of souls snap if it becomes just too much."

Honestly, considering the grim darkness of the events I had explained to her, I was amazed that she had not snapped right there and then. The average citizen of the Imperium in the 41st millennium was accustomed to misery, pain and despair. But had it not been completely different for Humanity in the 30th millennium? Almost a golden age, an age of hope, the Emperor and all his Children together, walking the galaxy and protecting, uniting and guiding humanity in its future. Not being accustomed to the hardships everyone had to endure now, the sheer bleakness must have hit the Anima harder than I could imagine.

Of course, not everything during her time could have been bright and pleasant, but still. I took it as a sign that she indeed was far above us ordinary humans, that she still could work and function under such news.

Apparently, having touched a bit upon my thoughts, Amberley nodded very sombre, very grave.

"Yes, I agree. No one is incorruptible. Everyone can fall, everyone can break. That is a truth, even for the Primarchs and the Anima themselves. As Horus and his foul brethren taught us all to well. We need to plan carefully what we will tell her."

That was a prospect I did not even want to consider. I was not sure the Imperium could survive an Anima to return, only to fall to Chaos or madness. I was not sure I could survive that, and I am not speaking in the physical meaning here.

"Yes, we need to keep the worst from here. Should she fall… I don't even want to consider it."

With effort, I shook myself and moved away from those thought.

"Speaking of being careful, we still need to message Zyvan. Although we need to work out what to tell him. Who knows who will read the message or intercept it."

She leaned back, pondering the situation for a bit, as relieved as me to let that grim prospect rest.

"Well, he is conducting a campaign on Char right now, stopping an onslaught of the Tyranids. So we know at least where to send the message instead of relying upon Sector Command."

I believe it says all about our mood that we were relieved to think about a friend fighting for his life against Tyranids, just glad that we could stay away from other topics in our conversation.

I gave Amberley a weary look, feeling every year of my service in His Name.

"I can't help it, but I do not feel well with the idea of manipulating the Anima this way…"

For a moment, the bright and cheery woman I had come to like looked as weary and old as I felt myself. But then her body tensed and with pure plasteel in her eyes she returned my gaze.

"Neither do I. And it is my job to manipulate people. But either we manipulate the Anima or we risk her death and a blood bath like this sector has never seen before."

How should we have known that her grand words were but an understatement of events yet to come?

**Hand of Vengeance, Interplanetary space of Hades System**

"Lord Raesac, when will we be in position?"

His deep voice rumbled as he bent over the hololith. Its flickering and swaying icons showing the advance of their mighty ship, as well as the planet filled with unnatural beings of pure evil and the dead or dying remains of a once loyal population,. Having served Him faithfully and probably spent their last breaths to beg for His Mighty Troops to show up.

While the troops did not arrive in time, the Hand of Vengeance was here now. And his brethren and he would carry out vengeance in the name of every man, woman and child that had died agonising deaths in their homes, slaughtered by the foul forces of chaos. The last energies of the damnable Warpstorm that had condemned the nearly defenceless world still flickered through the upper atmosphere, but it did matter little. They had no orders to land on an already dead world and fight a pointless battle, no matter how satisfying ending the Daemons in close-combat might be.

No, for they carried a far more terrible weapon, the greatest force of destruction known to the Imperium of Man. Cyclonic Torpedoes, carrying the unlimited rage of Jupiter herself, physically represented through a splinter of Her Storm Castle, which She had crashed during the times of Heresy. Taking a full company of the World Eaters with Her, and creating storms ravaging Traitor Titans whole. Still containing enough rage to fuel the Torpedoes with a power to destroy whole worlds. Enough power to carry out the Saturn Protocol, as commanded by the Holy Inquisition.

"If the machine spirit is willing, we will reach launch position in 4 hours, Captain Amuray."

The officer with the golden epaulettes replied, standing at attention and watching over his bridge, filled with the arcane apparatuses of the Mechanicum. Not that he, Darnau Amuray, understood any of their workings, he was no mystic after all. He was a Captain of the Astartes, Commander of the third company of the Angels of Damnation, a standing as glorious as it could be.

For him, it was enough that the serfs manned the strange consoles and kept them functioning, propelling their mighty vessel towards their destination, their glorious weapons ready to distribute His Will and their impenetrable Void Shields capable of enduring all feeble attempts their desperate enemies might conjure to stop His finest from a safe distance.

"Good. Any activity from the Warpstorm?"

Satisfied with the constellation of runes in the hololith, he straightened his large frame once more. Soon, their vengeance would be at hand. The Hand of Vengeance would be at, well, at hand. For the vengeance. Hmm. He would maybe have to think about a more fitting name for their Glorious Vessel. Although boot had not the same sound to it as hand. Maybe chain boot? Of curb kicking? Hmm, that didn't sound right either.

"No, Captain, it seems it has done its unholy work and has already spewed as many of the foul denizens of the warp out onto this world as it could. It is possible that it will calm down entirely in a couple of days."

Shaking his head and making the sign of the Aquila with one hand, the ship's commander could not help but look uneasy at the mentioning of the unnatural evil, only kept at bay by the Holy Icons and Wards protecting his vessel from the unholy energies violating space.

"Keep me informed of any activity in the Warpstorm. Are the Heretics still hailing us?"

The disgust was evident in his voice as he stared at the impenetrable plasteel-wall behind which the fallen, and right now unseen, world of Hades VI was even now harbouring Daemons and evils not meant to be. The low incantations and murmurings of various prayers to the machine spirit filled the bridge with a low background noise, sharply accentuated with the near random clicking of various runes.

"Yes, Captain, they are indeed still chanting their futile prayers to the condemned gods at us.

Some even dare to defile the emblems of the Holy Inquisition itself."

The words were nearly spat, barely concealed hate in them upon the committed outrage. As if any loyal imperial force would even listen to the Vox calls of Daemons and traitors. The cowards must be despaired, bemoaning their fate and preparing a warptwisted trickery, now that a real imperial force had arrived and was ready to deal with them in the only appropriate manner.

"Keep the Vox channels closed. An open mind is like a fortress, with its gates unbarred and unguarded."

He advised, standing tall and proud in his Power Armour and supervising the hive of activities surrounding him, keeping the ancient artefact of space travel afloat and serving His Unyielding Will. No Chaos touched 'thing' would ever threaten their resolve, no matter the form it may choose.

"Of course, Captain. We have no need for the words of traitors and demons defiling our ears."

The Lord of the Ship was only too eager to agree, knowing that even simple words held danger when spoken by the agents of Chaos. The simple Vox operators and serfs did not have the mental fortitude of the mighty Astartes or their Captain. As an unsure afterthought, he added:

"But Sire, what if there are still some pockets of loyal survivors down on the planet?"

He had pondered that too, of course. Since they had entered the system. But with heavy regret in his heart he had come to the one, inevitable conclusion.

"Our orders are clear. Kill them all and let the Emperor sort them out."

He would pray for their souls. And damn the Chaos spawn even more. An Astartes was supposed to be a protector, a shield between humanity and the monsters. Not an executioner of loyal subjects to the Divine Emperor on Holy Terra.

Said Astartes seethed with cold rage. For these abominations to take another world from the Imperium, slaughter its people or forcing them to become Daemon hosts. He could see it before him, the pitiful defenders of the PDF had probably been swept aside within minutes, leaving a defenceless world to the blood lust of the monstrous servants of unholy beings.

But soon, they would be able to avenge them. Deliver the Emperor's immortal wrath and cleanse the whole world with holy fire! Burning each and everyone of the Heretics alive.

"Milord!" The voice of a serf called out in alarm, looking up from the bulky console he was bend over, bathed in the light of strange runes glowing with coloured lights.

"The Machine Spirit is wailing; the outer hull of our holy vessel has been breached!"

"Breached? By what? Were we hit?"

The ships commander whirled around, surprise written on his face and stepped towards the now hectic serf.

"No, milord, it does not seem so. The Auspex shows a small craft attached to our Mighty Vessel and the machine spirit assures me he can still conserve the atmosphere sustaining our every breath in His Name."

Busily manipulating the runes of his console and muttering prayers to the Omnisiad under his breath, the serf answered his approaching superior.

Amuray was astonished by the sheer audacity of the foul spawns of chaos, to dare striking directly against their Battle Barge. He and his brothers would crush them. The Angels of Damnation would come upon the lost souls of the damned, damning their damnable attack and… Well, the vengeance of the whole crew of the Hand of Vengeance was…at hand, and they would…Damn it. He shook his head and bellowed a command.

"Lord, sound the intruder alarm. The Enemy is trying to board us."

Activating his armour's Vox system and dismissing all further thoughts about damnation, vengeance and speeches he alerted his troops. Fortunately, he had not to race back to his quarters and get his helm, for the Vox system was build into his armour and not the helm. This special setup was standard for every Astartes Captain, for some obscure reason he had never bothered to verify. The legend spoke of Leman Russ and his antipathy for wearing helms due to his long hair, but these rumours were only spoken in a whisper.

"Battle Brothers! This is Captain Darnau Amuray. The enemy has dared to board our Holy Vessel. Show him the might of the Emperor's finest! Assume combat positions and check your tactical Vox net; we will teach them what it means to defy the Imperium and His Will.

We are His Burning Vengeance!"

The thundering answer of a full, battle-ready company of the Adeptus Astartes roared with inhuman strength through the Vox net.

"For the Emperor!"

Praying for the grace of the machine spirit, he checked his Holy Bolter carefully in the dim light which shone through the cavernous plasteel bowels that surrounded them.

The Blessed Instrument was in perfect condition; performing the rituals and blessings to appease the machine spirit of their weapons and armour was a daily procedure for the Angels of Damnation. One they took very seriously, for even they would be hard pressed to administer His Burning Vengeance should the instruments of His Will that He had gifted to them wither due to negligence.

Satisfied with the status of his equipment, he relaxed his mind to the disciplined calm that filled the time before every battle. Before an Angel could feel the fire of His Wrath filling him, driving each of them forward, to victory, crushing the enemies of Humanity before them.

A glance on his HUD confirmed that his squad was in perfect position in the central corridor they had occupied. The check was merely a gesture of redundancy, for they were veterans of dozens of bloody battles, victories for the Imperium. They had faced the horrors of the Warp, the treachery of Xenos and the evil of Heresy.

This time would be no different. For he might feel pity in his heart for the poor souls on Hades VI that had fallen to Chaos, fallen they were and burn they would. In the cleansing fires of His Ire. And the flames of the two flamers his Squad carried. Ready to spew their Promethium on any infidel and end his miserable existence in temperatures that could melt even the unholy flesh of Daemons.

Heavy steps sounded through the corridor, the immense weight and power of their creator almost making the deck vibrate. Blocking the light of the Glow Shard behind it, the hulking form of an ancient Artificer Armour stepped in the corridor. The harsh, grim skull helm loomed above them, and the few red stripes of their company and chapter insignia contrasted sharply with the bleak black of the Holy Armour. Wielding the massive Crozius Arcanum in one hand and making it look like a toy, the twelve feet high figure towered in the stark metal corridor.

"Brother-Chaplain. Your presence honours us."

The massive form rotated its head slightly and regarded him with a solemn gaze.

"There is only honour in striking down His enemies, Brother Sergeant. Let us earn much honour today."

With a sharp nod, he turned to his squad, addressing them in a strong voice via the Vox net.

"Brothers! Chaplain Pasyensed will stand with us against the filthy Heretics raging futilely against their fate. Let us show them the fury of the Space Marines!"

A deep cheer rose up from the ranks of the spread out Astartes, their instruments of judgement raised and ready.

"Guard yourself, Battle Brothers. This enemy is not one I have sensed before. Its very presence blankets the Warp. Let us bring the fire of faith to them!"

The booming voice of the Chaplain easily carried throughout the corridor without the help of any Vox speaker, habitual addressing hundreds of Battle Brothers during the rites of the Chapter Cult. Briefly, a fiery flame of faith rose up from the Holy Crozius, bathing them in bright light and filling their hearts with courage.

Fregoyd felt a faint twinge of curiosity.

Chaplain Pasyensed was a veteran of the Chapter; he had fought the enemies of the Emperor in hundreds of battles and as many years, smiting them with his Crozius Arcanum and purifying their souls with his Holy Bolter, cleansing the fallen in fire. For him to meet an unknown enemy was rare indeed.

It mattered little. They were the Emperor's finest, His mailed fist. They would prevail and cleanse the taint of Heretics and Warpspawn alike from His Dominion.

Without preamble, their Vox transmitter blared to live, broken with static.

"_Squad Nobes has contact. The enemy is fielding traitor Guardsmen, together with someone in the garb of a Commissar."_

Traitor Guardsmen. Once ordinary men, now they had given in to the whispers of Chaos, had fallen prey to their own twisted desires and were reduced to empty husks serving the false gods of chaos. Traitors to Emperor and Imperium, they deserved only pity and a swift end.

He noticed Sallosh flexing his grip on his Holy Bolter, his breathing changing. Tensing.

Fregoyd remembered, he knew each men in his squad intimately. He knew how the home of his Battle Brother had fallen to Chaos, betrayed by their own PDF. There had been no survivors. Ever since, the zeal of Sallosh had been more than exemplary. Especially where Chaos was concerned.

A large, large hand landed on Sallosh's shoulder, almost covering his pauldron.

"Pray for their fallen souls and deliver them to His Side, Battle Brothers."

The deep voice of the Chaplain advised them and began to intone a prayer to the Princess, asking for the forgiveness of the sins the fallen had committed. The rest of the Astartes soon joined in, speaking the familiar words and Sallosh's pose relaxed infinitesimal.

"_Contact to Squad Nobes lost. Squad Harres and Tigris moving in."_

The enemy was still far away from their position, and many Astartes were between them and his squad. Fregoyd severely doubted that they would be able to overcome the resistance of his Battle Brothers, but his discipline, forged during dozens of battles, kept him sharp and alert, watching for any signs of Heretical Intrusion. Guarding one of the main corridors leading deep inside their Holy Vessel and defending it from any intruders was of vital importance.

"_Squad Harres has contact. They are reporting traitor Guardsmen and a black armoured Daemon."_

While they might be no Grey Knights, they had struck down many a Daemon and foul creature of the warp. This would be no different as the Heretics would soon discover to their terror. And their Daemon would fall before their Holy Weapons, banished back to the warp.

"_Squad Tigris__ reports the enemy is breaking through the walls themselves and is running from the sheer might of the Emperor's Finest."_

So now the desperate servants of Chaos were running from them and his brave Battle Brothers had to round them up like the rats they were. This too, was something familiar for the Angels of Damnation. The weak creatures of Chaos could not stand before their might.

He called up a schematic of their surroundings in his HUD and checked it for the obvious routes the enemy may take.

"_Squad Nobes has re-established communications. Moving up to Tigris, to cleanse the enemy."_

Fighting a running battle against the cowards who would only strike at the helpless and defenceless, fleeing once the avenging wrath of Him was coming down on them, delivered through their Holy Weapons. It was a maddening, and frustrating pattern, but they would not loose their focus and allow the craven to escape and pillage another world.

"Battle Brothers. We need to move out; the enemy will bypass our choke point if they continue to break through the walls. We will engage them head on and squash the defilers like vermin under our mighty boots."

The hulking form of Chaplain Pasyensed was the first to move after his encouraging words, barely stopping himself from rushing towards the location of their enemies and leaving his squad behind. With the precision of a thousand drills and the coherency of brothers closer than blood, the Astartes followed him, keeping their advance covered by their Holy Bolters and their formation flexible enough for any surprise. The clang of heavy plasteel boots on metal carried through the corridor, like ancient drums announcing the demise of any who stood before them.

"_Squad Nobes is reporting that the enemy is using the voice of children to attack our morale. Stand firm, Battle Brothers."_

Obviously, the Heresy of these foul creatures knew no limit. The use of children as weapons was a vile tactics, yet sometimes used by the most damned agents of Chaos.

The deep, rumbling voice of the Chaplain called out, gathering their courage and determination. The Intruders would not be able to repeat their acts of depravation ever again.

"We are the Space Marines. We will not fall, we will not falter. For He is our shield and we are His Blazing Guns. Armour your hearts with faith, Battle Brothers, and smite down all that dare to stand before us. There is only the Emperor and His Daughter, and they are our shield and salvation." Intoning the Litany of Hatred the Chaplain marched on, followed by armoured shapes, stalking like the harbingers of revenge they were. Carrying the death for their foes in their very hands.

"_Squad Harres has been outmanoeuvred, trying to re-establish contact with enemy." _

Moving through the dimly lit caverns of the ancient behemoth that had carried them through space and towards their uncountable battles, each Astartes covered the advance of the others with the dedication and thoroughness that had been achieved in dozens of battles and hundreds of training exercises. Nothing escaped their predatory eyes, nothing could sneak past their watchful ears and the sixth sense of the battlefield honed in them to perfection was tense, ready to warn them of any danger.

"_Two enemy formations confirmed. One heading towards the__ centre of our Holy Vessel, another one moving through the outer sections."_

So the vermin was now being herded towards them. Soon, their blight would be cleansed from His Holy Domain and they could complete their mission, eradicating the source of these fallen ones. Like ghostly fingers the targeting lasers of their Holy Bolters touched upon the naked walls and floors.

"_Squad Asling reports contact."_

"Be prepared, Battle Brothers. We are closing in upon the Heretics." The dark voice of the Chaplain alerted them, and only minutes later the augmented ears of the Space Marines picked up the sounds of battle. The sacred melody of Holy Bolters filled the air, roaring their fury upon the enemies of Mankind, together with small detonations and the discharges of heavier weapons.

Quickening their approach, the hardened elite soldiers of Humanity still kept their formation and clear lines of fire, ready to rain down a hail of fiery death upon anything that might dare to face them in a futile attempt to halt their approach.

The sound of weapon fire grew louder, the combat more intense as the Astartes pressed on, centners of plasteel, bones and flesh moving with speed far beyond any unaugmented human. The fragments of a voice sounded to them. A young, human voice drowned out by the chaos of battle.

"Attack Formation Alpha 3, Brothers, we are coming up behind the enemy. Strike true and strike with precision."

He ordered his squad, and unhooked the safety of his Holy Bolter, the machine spirit only to eager to deliver explosive death deep into the bodies of his enemies.

"Grenades!"

Less than a second after the three grenades did detonate, four Astartes had rushed around the corner, ready to shower the space behind it in a maelstrom of Holy Bolter Rounds and cleansing fire.

"Contact lost, Brother Sergeant."

Quickly stepping behind them, he was greeted with the sight of a corridor ravaged by weapon fire and the dark armoured figures of the Devastors of Squad Asling, their weapons still heated from the distribution of their Holy Wrath.

"Brother Sergeant. Two o'clock. Hole in the floor."

Indeed, he could clearly see the gap in the armoured deck plates, surrounded by their mauled twins. Stepping closer, he noticed that the thick plasteel had been cut cleanly, without any visible heating or deformation to the edges.

On the floor below them the cut out piece of deck could be seen.

"The filthy Heretics are cutting a way through our mighty ship. They are even fleeing to different decks to escape from our wrath." Sallosh ground out.

Feeling frustrated in the same way upon the narrow escape of their prey, his answer was still clear, precise and pragmatic.

"It matters little, Brother. We will follow them, and hunt them down like the vermin they are. With me, Brothers."

The hole was less than half a metre wide, far too small to allow the large frame of an armoured Astartes to pass, not even considering the gigantic proportions of Chaplain Shugue Pasyensed.

Yet, the Holy Warriors of Mankind would not be hindered by mere architecture. With long, purposeful strides they made it to the next stairways and descended unto the lower level. Their superior speed and gait would more than make up the time they lost by taking this indirect route, of that, he was sure.

"Be aware, Brothers, that the enemy is using a small child as cover and a heretical commissar is supporting them." Sergeant Asling addressed the newly arrived Marines.

This sheer audacity of the blackened souls that had invaded their Holy Vessel only managed to fuel the fires of the cold rage that dwelt in the breasts of each grim warrior. There could be no other outcome but the destruction of these rotten beings.

"We shall deliver them from their suffering."

Pasyensed followed his words with the full litany of Vengeance, focusing each and every one of the Astartes on the death of the intruders.

"Squad Menol has contact; the enemy has bypassed another deck. Move faster, brothers, we will come upon them in a storm of revenge."

Fregoyd urged his Squad on, the Astartes now breaking in a run, trusting in their armour and the Emperor to protect them from any ambush. Soon, they descended to the next lower deck.

"_The enemy is moving fast through the decks, armoured walls do not seem to delay them."_

Determination filled the Astartes as they stormed on, they would bring these foes to His Judgement and administer liberal amounts of His Large-calibre Justice to every single one of them. They would not besmirch the honour of their chapter's fighting tradition any longer.

"_Squad Menol is reporting that the enemy is attempting to masquerade as an Anima of the Imperium."_

"How dare they? Their vile minds shall be crushed by our vengeance, we will rip their very souls from their bodies and offer them to Him, for His Judgement. They are desecrating that which is Holy. Only the cleansing flames and Blessed Shells of our Holy Bolters can answer this insult, this profanity, this Heresy. There can be no prisoners! Burn with righteous anger, Battle Brothers and choke the heretics with the glory of the Emperor. Death and damnation to the abominations! Kill them with Fir!

Oh Master of Mankind, grant us the Wrath, the Strength, the Fury to destroy these wretched beings and erase their very existence."

The sheer rage and anger radiating from the towering form of Chaplain Pasyensed was palpable, shrouding him in a miasma of aggression which was reflected in the heart of every Astartes who had heard the transmission. This open mockery of one of the most holy beings in the Imperium was nothing any of them could endure in good spirit. The death of the sinners was the only possible answer.

Still, the sheer depth of the Chaplains hatred amazed him, a fury as pure and burning as any he had ever seen in a human being. The powerful voice of the Chaplain had actually snapped at the end.

Turning to the Devastators of Squad Asling, the Chaplain pointed out two Battle Brothers, voice, posture and every fibre still vibrating with Rage.

"Let His Burning Wrath pave the way for us, to strike down His enemies. Incinerate all those that dare to defile His Daughters. Blast me a way through this floor, now!"

The sheer force of will directed at the two Space Marines made them raise their bulky Multi-Meltas and point the weapons at the floor. With a flash of the heat and strength of a sun, the Meltas spewed forth their deadly power. Within the span of a second they had burned a hole in the floor that even the mighty frame of Pasyensed would be able to pass.

Driven by rage, cold determination and the sheer fury of their Chaplain, the Astartes raced through their Holy Vessel, not caring how grievous the wounds they caused to the vessel that carried them maybe as they burned their path towards the vile Heretics.

"We are drawing closer to the rotten vermin, Battle Brothers. I can feel their taint. Make haste and unleash the full fury of the Angels of Damnation on them. For the Emperor. For Lion El'Jonson. For the Anima, who soothed our souls. In the name of Mars, leave none alive."

Shouting the litany of Extermination to all near him and several ones further away, too, the Chaplain drove their combined Squads forward, the Holy Corzius Arcanum in his grip burning bright and hot enough that the filters of their helms activated. Fregoyd could feel the tension in his brothers, their will to slay the enemies of the Emperor, their drive to end this blight on what was Holy. And their hope to get their Chaplain to calm down. An Astartes knew no fear. The Emperor himself had decreed it. But He had said nothing about feeling…concerned.

"Please, we no wish fighting."

The high pitched voice of one of the damned carried around a corner, cowardly begging for his unworthy life. There was only one answer the Angels of Damnation, the Emperor's Chosen, the Sons of Lion El'Jonson were willing to give them.

Three grenades flew around the corner and less than a heartbeat after their detonation, four Astartes followed. Their Holy Bolters intoning the melody of battle so familiar to any Astartes and the roar of the flamers bringing justice to all.

Finally, Fregoyd rounded the corner, too.

Instantly, he assessed the situation and picked his targets. His Holy Bolter fired a burst of large shells at the traitorous guardsmen holding the bulky Melta, in the motion of raising and aiming it at his Squad.

Even as the woman dove to the side, lifting a plasma pistol and the false commissar moved his Las pistol, the Bolt Rounds touched the eerie purple veil hanging in the corridor. And stopped instantly, hanging in the air.

"Witchcraft." Not perturbed by the dark machinations, he threw a frak grenade at the head of the abomination wearing the garb of an Anima. It was standing motionless behind the veil, a glaive-like weapon placed before her, like a mockery to their zeal and martial prowess.

The other Astartes had closed in, too, and the sun bright claws of the Multi-Meltas reached out, the thunderous roar of the heavy bolters filled the air and the sheer fury of the Emperor's finest carried by His Mightiest Guns bore down on the hapless herectics, righteous wrath and power unleashed to annihilate everything in its path, enough raw destruction to rip apart a traitorous tank or maybe even hurt a Greater Daemon.

It was not enough. Mighty lances of heat winked out of existence upon contact with the eldritch veil, Bolt Rounds and grenades alike hovered in mid air and the foul heretic wielding the Melta fired from the unholy protection of their sorcery.

Only to have his shot stopped by the alien force screen, too.

Quickly pointing to a wall, he shouted over the Vox channels.

"Burn us a way around them, take them in the flank. Death to the Heretics."

The thunderous command of the massive Chaplain drowned everything else out, cutting through the hectic of battle and the swarm of activities like a Melta should cut through Heretics.

"Hold fire. Lay down your arms, Battle Brothers!"

The supreme fire discipline of the Astartes guaranteed that the fire did indeed stop instantly, although the weapons stayed risen. In astonishment, he watched how the giant form of Pasyensed crashed down on his knees, head bowed in supplication and arms spread wide open, the immense Crozius Arcanum clattering to the ground, its flame extinguished.

"Holy Anima, do not judge these poor souls too harshly for their sacrilege, for they knew not what they did."

Shock hit the Space Marines, racing through their bodies, but they continued to stand poised and battle ready. Fregoyd was aghast. This could not be. It was impossible. The Anima were dead, and by the Emperor, even if not, there was no way any of them would be found on their Battle Barge, hunted down by Astartes and treated like filthy Heretics.

"Kneel, you fools, for She is a True Anima of the Imperium and His Living Daughter. Kneel, and repent, sinners! May Mars shield your minds from all temptation."

There was only one explanation, terrifying as it was. But an Astartes did not shy away from the truth, as gruesome as it might be. For the mind of a mighty Chaplain like Pasyensed to be broken so quickly, so completely was a disaster literally unheard of and a terror in its own right, even for the harsh experiences of the long life a Space Marine might see.

"Ohh… me recognized. Me glad. Greets, everyone!"

And yet, the creature had the audacity to speak, although brokenly, in the language of the Imperium. It was impossible, yet, here it was. Tersem reacted, before he could, and swung his Holy Bolter around, trying to aim at the fallen Chaplain.

But as fast and fluid as his movement was, it was not enough. A fist big as his head crashed against Tersem's helm, the sheer force of the powerful impact throwing him against the wall even as his Power Armour protected him.

"Unbeliever!" The still kneeling Chaplain called out, while he retracted his fist.

"Stand down, else you give your souls to eternal damnation! And the Emperor would gladly feed them to the denizens of the Warp for your Heresy, trying to touch His Daughter! Raising your hands against Divinity!"

The conviction of the Chaplain rang true, and he had lead everyone of them on their spiritual path, from the time they had been newly baptised neophyte's until this very day. For him to fall like this was almost more than they were ready to consider, to accept, even with the evidence right before them. Indecision stalled their hands for a moment.

"Holy Anima. I beg Thee, You must leave this vessel at once. For I cannot guarantee the safety of Your Holy Self here. Escape to Your ship, and retreat from this system. We have order to launch an Exterminatus upon this world and I fear our Brother-Captain will not see reason and stand down in time."

Even in the heat of the fiercest of battles, never had he heard this urgency, nay, this pleading in the voice of the Chaplain. To see a proud and heroic Astartes, an idol for them all, reduced to this, begging to a wicked servant of the ruinous powers was like a wound on his soul. A blemish on the standard of the Chapter itself.

"Thank Chaplain. Jet no can do. Must be stopped. World not destroyed. No more deaths."

Daring to shake her head and feigning grave sadness, the creature defied them even now, only the unholy light of the Daemonic Veil prevented him from unleashing the wrath of his Holy Bolter on it. Again. And again.

"…. very well. I will convince our Captain to see reason and recognize You, Holy Spirit. But please, I beg Thee, leave this vessel for I cannot guarantee that everyone of my brothers will stall their hand on my command."

The Chaplain implored the Heretic once more, urgency carrying through his voice. Even the other, lesser Heretics looked astonished and the Commissar was muttering something under his breath. No doubt further foul sorcery of the Warp.

"Chaplain! You can't…"

Stepping towards the broken Chaplain, Fregoyd reached out. Only to feel a terrible force crashing into his legs and gravity pulling harsly at him. Before he could react, the same terrible force crashed into his chest, cracking his Power Armour and driving all air and thoughts of breathing from him. Heavily, he impacted the floor with a sound not unlike a drop pod reaching its destination.

"Silence, fool! And show your repentance for your sins!"

The Chaplain raised his Corzius Arcanum once more, daring anyone to move. Its bright flames roaring wildly in the twilight of dim Glow Shards and eerie alien light.

"Agreement. Thank you, Lord Chaplain. Please, sure make Captain your is good. No Exterminatus."

Weakly raising his head and taking a shuttering breath, he could only watch as the Heretics made their escape and the gigantic form of Chaplain Rictov Novmodo rose, to glance down on the gathered Astartes, even more grim and grave than usual. Never would Force Commander Amuray stand for this, their mission would be carried out. Of that, Fregoyd was sure.

**Shuttle Tydirium, Interplanetary space of Hades Sysem**

I punched the rune of the airlock hard enough to let the machine spirit feel it physically.

At least I was pretty sure of it. But I was too busy yelling of the top of my lungs to care much.

"Everyone inside. Take off now, take off."

Lord Radev regarded me with a cool look, it was hard to tell under the eyeless face plate. The airlock had nearly caught his cape. But for once, I did not care. There was a whole Battle Barge full of Astartes behind us. Okay, I did not care much. Next time I would wait for him to enter at his leisure. Priorities are important.

I had probably already lost half a dozen lives and aged at least fifty years in the last hour. No need to add any more hazards to it.

All in all, the experience had not been worth it, I concluded, no matter the new information I had learned. Namely, Astartes firing at you where at least twice as tall as ordinary Astartes. And I had no intention of ever setting foot on any kind of ship again, even if I had to walk to my next deployment.

I took a shuddering breath. The sight of a Melta blast stabbing towards me, only to stop in empty air was something that would stay with me for a long time. At least I believed so at that time.

Finally, and far too slowly, our shuttle started to move, and I watched the Anima murmuring her incantation again. No doubt the same purple field that had saved my hide more times than I even wanted to consider on that death trap of a Battle Barge now stood again between our shuttle and the warship. As it had for our whole approach before. I did not care what kind of sorcery it was, only that it apparently worked.

Amberley looked nearly as bedraggled as I felt, and even Jurgen slouched more than usual.

Jurgen was as staunch and unshakeable as anyone I had ever meet, maybe because he simply did not stop to consider what he was up against or even realizing what was happening around him. And for my favourite Inquisitor. Before Hades VI, I would have pegged her as far atop of my list of cool and collected persons, no matter the situation. She still stood there, just now the top had a podium above it, holding someone that was definitely not human. And I never wanted to knew otherwise.

Yet both of them were visibly exhausted, and drained, too, by our latest experience.

The Anima stood poised with her weapon, no doubt concentrating on her, well, I will not call it sorcery, maybe miraclecraft would be a good term. She looked regal, in control, like a statue of purity and determination. The very symbol that She was.

I calmed down and drew strength from that image. And the growing distance between us and the bloodthirsty horde of genetically engineered superhuman killing machines with superior equipment and weapons.

Lord Radev was a silent black monolith in one corner, unmoving despite the heavy marring his armour had experienced. Were that fragments of a Lightning Claw struck in his torso? I averted my eyes.

For all the professionalism and skill the Storm Troopers accompanying us had displayed, I was not surprised that none had returned. Their mission had been complete suicide, searching the Battle Barge, full of hostile Astartes, if I had not mentioned it, and sabotaging the Cyclonic Torpedoes. What did surprise me was that Lord Radev hat managed to return. He had been leading their 'expedition'. I decided not to ask. Some things, Man was not meant to know.

Considering that we had only survived because of the miraculous reaction of that enormous Chaplain I felt almost as if alive by mistake. Not that I didn't welcome certain mistakes. But then, travelling with Divinity, maybe I should get used to miracles. I had absolutely no idea how the Chaplain intended to sway his Force Commander in stopping the Exterminatus, our suicide plan to sabotage the torpedoes had predictably failed anyways.

True to Amberley's warning the Astartes had not once slowed down or bothered to listen to us. I wasn't even sure if they had registered our Vox hails. Once on their ship, we had been greeted by their Bolters, and been hunted as if there was a pack of merciless predators upon us. Only the way the weapon of the Senshi had cut walls and floor alike had given us the chance to escape the swift Angels of Damnation, moving far faster than anything of their size should be allowed to run.

Considering the determination and fury of these Space Marines, I doubted that any words could sway the Force Commander in the slightest. But I had very much wanted to not argue with the Chaplain there and then, escape was a far more pressing need for me. As always. Exterminatus be damned.

The gaze Amberley regarded me with, did not bode anything well if my instincts were anything to go by. She would not want to discuss our failure right there, and then… when the shuttle could still be turned around. No, she could not. I sent a short prayer to Him, and Her, to any power that might listen to let something happen, anything. Please.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed around our shuttle, and I could see a burning wave of destruction speeding out from us.

No, not from us. From behind us. My first thought was that we had been spotted and now the Astartes were annihilating us with the fearsome firepower of their Battle Barge. But this wave of destruction was too much even for their mighty guns, and our shuttle was calm and steady. With dread in the pit of my stomach I looked back through the porthole.

The Battle Barge, the symbol of Imperial Might and Prowess was gone. Only glowing, burning debris was in its place, snakes of pure plasma reaching out, slowly fading from existence, as secondary detonations shook the destroyed wreck and its fragments.

Taking a step forward and abject horror on her face, the Anima nearly dropped her Glaive.

For a moment, everything quivered in anticipation. But then a white gloved hand closed again and caught the weapon before it could touch the floor.

"No….no… they can not…Why? Why, father? Even your own. What is happening, father?"

And a small girl in the cold void between worlds cried out in despair to her dying father.


	13. Arc 2, teaser

**Imperial Lunar Class Cruiser, Ceres's Charge**

I felt happy and almost content, enjoying the day. Feeling temperature controlled, stale air on my skin, the unsteady light of artificial illuminators, well, not really warming my skin with its cold glare and the climate control sucking always more breathable air out than returning.

Ahh, the feelings of home.

Even better, for once, the attention and focus of the people was directed not at me, but at someone else, despite everyone present knowing my name and reputation. But then, it's not every day that you get to meet not a Living Saint, but a Living and Walking Goddess. Well, a Standing Goddess right now, and she was handling the attention far better than I usually did.

Standing straight and regal looking, Her sign of office, the Silence Glaive, resting in one hand, She overlooked the scene before Her with a calm, yet kind gaze. Her posture and appearance making Her heritage and Divine Lineage obvious even to the lowliest of servitors scurrying around the control room. An aura filled the air, like the soft embrace of welcome, a gentle hand steadying you even in the harsh and desperate situations we knew all too well, a bright glow shining for you even in the darkest of nights.

Somehow, it made the whole dark room with its subdued colours more bearable. The vast chamber of the control centre, filled with its arcane apparatuses, protruding tubes and levers, gaps in ceiling and floor filled with wires I could practically see moving and squirming. Large machines seemingly grew out of the walls or just sprouted from the ground, pressing into the cramped space, lights weakly flickering, casting shadows and allowing for barely enough sight to guess at the more obscure forms in the dark. It was filled with crewman and servitors, busying around, entranced in slow, sombre arcane rites, the full weight of the machine spirit pressing down on them, on us. The whole experience was somehow made more gentle, smooth, less burdening and overbearing than the far too many other times I had the unfortunate fate to visit a starship bridge before.

Alas, even the Holy Power of an Anima of the Imperium could do nothing against the odour of the 'incense' the Tech Priests used to purify and embalm the mere physical parts of the machine spirit laid bare, appeasing and comforting it. Today, it ranked somewhere between the odour of a hive city, with every inhabitant killed weeks ago by followers of Nurgle, on a tropical planet during the heights of the local monsoon, recaptured by an Imperial Guards unit having been out on the field for said weeks without any chance of freshening up, and the undergarments of an Orkish Warboss being shoved in your face.

I had concluded long ago that an artificial nose was mandatory for a Tech Priest.

Now, if only the pricking in my hands would stop, I might, and I stretch the might, have been content. But I couldn't help it and sneak uneasy glances around, eyeing my surroundings suspiciously. While I had grown accustomed to the warnings of my hands, it was quite unusual to get them at the beginning of a journey. These warnings were usually reserved for the minutes before the shooting started, some unspeakable abomination tried to claim my head for its Master furnishing or the weekly reports to the Administratum. I really, really did not want to know why it was different this time. Of course, I soon came to learn about it.

At least by now, the ordinary servitors, crewman and others were manning their stations again and doing whatever needed doing onboard a starship heading out into deeper space. I had been a tad bit worried when minutes before everyone turned around, stared and dropped to their knees, praying or just mumbling in awe. I almost wished for the ring of red robed resolutees to close again around the Anima and rob the bridge crew of the Royal Distraction. Only some well-chosen words of mine had 'encouraged' the crew to get back to administering the blessings and sermons to the relics connecting them to the machine spirit of our vessel. I sincerely hoped said spirit would not be too resentful about the short neglect it had experienced.

Well, and I would feel even better if the various officers or higher ranking individuals around the bridge would get back to their jobs, too. But my understanding of the inner working of starships is limited, and maybe they really had no other duties than to stand around the bridge and look important. Or to be mere precise, to gawk at any hapless visitor that may come around.

I had begun the hazardous journey through the seemingly fortified no-man's land that made up the ground of the bridge towards the bushy bearded individual I suspected to be the lord and captain of our vessel. The golden epaulettes and pompous uniform kind of gave him away. Carefully avoiding the many pitfalls in the floor and the looming machines or runed consoles that seemed to reach out to me, I had nearly reached the stocky man, when the main door creaked open, accompanied by the screeching of ancient machinery.

At once joined by very human screeching.

"Blackness. Nothing."

I whirled around, hands grasping my Las Pistol, Only to see Rakel, Amberley's Psyker, acting even more barmy than ever, hand stretched out and a finger pointing towards the Anima of Saturn, the Psyker bodily swaying in an unseen wind. Feeling quite glad about my current position, far away from the 'eccentric' woman, I winced as I noticed Amberley standing close to her. And the stance of certain red robed ravagers, weapons raised, two directly between Rakel and the Senshi, the others spread out, either focusing her or covering the rest of the room. One even crouched and poised as if to pounce on the crazy and unstable Psyker, wrangling the obviously unbalanced wielder of destructive mind powers to the ground, no matter personal risks or the 30 feet gap between them. Or more probably, to dismember her violently before their bodies even came close to the floor and filing her remains away in a small box, which he would then label and calmly file away. He just seemed like that kind of guy.

"Nothing. I see nothing. All is gone. She is not there, I do not see her. She is only emptiness. Void. We don't see. We are not. It is the end. The beginning of all!"

Pelton, of all people, put a hand on the girl's shoulder, whispering something in her ear while Amberley guided them towards the doors they had just passed. Mott was standing somewhat forlorn beside them, mumbling, no doubt sprouting information and data that really no one needed right now, but he had at least stepped out of any possible line of fire. Mott was a smart guy, sometimes even too smart for my own good. But we are not discussing recreational activities or wagers between good friends here. Even if one of them was cheating in a most dastardly and subtle way that I had yet to prove.

No matter what my instincts were telling me, and what I really wanted to do, that was Amberley out there. Directly in the line of fire, between crazy trigger happy guards and an unstable Psyker.

"Hold your fire, men, the situation is under control."

At least I hoped so. But then, I had no illusion at all wether a bunch of certain red robed reapers would listen to any voice of reason once they had a target in their sights. Still, I had to try. And stay safely in the back. I am not suicidal after all.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, die we must. Try as we may; to her, we can't say nay."

Sometimes, people who really did not get the clue grate on my nerves. Badly.

Thankfully, her screeches became soundless after the latest bout, yet not for lack of trying. With her mouth working, but no sound escaping her and hands clawing at empty hair combined with the expression on her face… Now, I am an experienced servant of His Divine Majesty, and I have seen many of the terrors that the galaxy harbours and the anxiety they may create in some men. The strange and eerie rites of the alien Eldar, the nonsensical behaviour and conduct of the heretical Tau with their disregard for the very truth of the machine spirit and the terrifying, just plain inhuman ways of the Administratum and its avatars.

But seeing a powerful Psyker twitch and claw at empty air, soundlessly howling, was not the most comforting sight I could imagine right then. Experience was not helping at all, because I had no need to guess at what could happen around Psyker's who had 'lost' it.

Finally, the main hatch closed behind Rakel and Pelton. Amberley turned around, striding over to us, apparently completely at ease and relaxed. I nearly glowered at her, but then remembered proper conduct when dealing with an Inquisitor of His Most Deranged Mob. All the while, the so-called 'bodyguards' fanned out once more and most people on the bridge started breathing again.

"Please accept my apologizes, Revered Anima. Rakel is a useful part of my entourage, but as all Psykers, she has her… moments, from time to time. I will make sure to see her suitable disciplined."

I had never seen any Inquisitor use such formal High Gothic or a bow this artfully and deferential before. On the other hand, I had a distinct lack in watching said Inquisitors interact with Divinity. I was certain that it would be somehow…, refreshing, to see it from a select few Inquisitors I had encountered over the years; not from Amberley, though.

"Sorry. Me reckless. Me wide-casting. Will stay more careful. No fault of Psyker. No harm her, yes?"

Several people on the bridge blinked, as the Anima nearly visibly shrank into herself and wrung her hands, casting a nervous glance at the Inquisitor, her cheeks reddening. I had missed it, again, how she had made her weapon vanish. Maybe some kind of miniaturizing function? An invisibility cloak? Stealthed Micro-Servitors? Considering her garment more than I wanted, I was quite sure that she would be unable to even hide a Las pistol on her person, much less so a full pole arm, tall as me.

To my surprise, the Inquisitor only needed a moment to get back her footing and respond dutifully, inciting a severe case of; well, in ordinary people I might call it blushing. In a Divine Anima of the Imperium I called it none of a mortal's business.

"Yes, of course, Your Highness, it shall be, as you command. I thank you for Your Divine Mercy."

Four of the guardians had taken close position around the Anima, shielding her from most eyes in the room and the other two had taken post next to the main hatch. I had little doubt that the ship's servitors would clean the deck for weeks to come from the next person who entered without moving 'very' slowly and subdued.

Bravely, Amberley ignored them, and kept speaking to Hotaru, who was slowly drifting closer to me, the circle of her guards enclosing me and somehow not appearing reassuring at all. More like…trapping me. I still failed to make out even one distinguishing detail in a single one of them. Not even Storm Troopers were that identically carbonate copies of each other. And the precision and unison in which they moved were just plain unnatural.

I had been very careful to not ask a certain two 'local PDF colonels' if they grew these guys in vats. Some things, man is not meant to know.

"I can report that the final shuttle has landed and the last of the 597th are disembarking. We are now ready to leave orbit. With your permission, Revered Anima?"

I doubted that many people could hear the response, spoken quietly and with a faint voice, but I had no such trouble, considering that the young girl answering had brought me between herself and most of the room. Standing in a proximity to me that was significantly closer than I thought would be appropriate in public, especially considering her station. And my safety, considering the twitch in Amberley's right cheek.

"Yes; please travel ahead, Inquisitor Lady, we find to need mine sisters."

After a small bow, and a final smouldering glare directed at the single unlucky Commissar, our most honoured Inquisitor and very close and personal friend who was a grand and merciful Lady indeed, turned around and addressed our probably abhuman captain. Although I am not quite sure which world of the Imperium had caused its inhabitants to take on the characteristics of walruses. Strangely, I would later come to learn of the world of Tusrark, but that's neither here not there.

"Lord De'soy, your navigator has divined a passage to our destination?"

With a sharp nod, the man answered in a deep baritone, encompassing all of his bridge with a flourishing gesture. His moustache, probably enough the intimidate an Astartes of the Space Wolves themselves, wobbled with the movement.

"Of course, Lady Inquisitor. The machine Spirit is willing, and we are ready to leave for Bepsin at any time."

Probably used to even more eccentric aliens and individuals, Amberley calmly indicated her approval., answering in her melodic voice. Sounding as foreign in these forlorn halls as her immaculate dress, accentuation not only her position but also her figure.

"Very well, Captain. Bring us on course. May the Emperor allow us swift passage."

With some of the most heroic effort I ever managed to achieve in my career, I only answered the small voice speaking up next to me with a miniscule nod.

"Huh. I not see father here, and even if, he would not certainly mind us travelling."

Briefly closing my eyes and banishing all thoughts of several Inquisitors I had encountered in the past reacting to words like these, I nearly missed the fateful next words of the captain.

"Aye, Mylady. As the Emperor wills. Mr. Taad, energy."

Barely registering the answer of the officer with the strange complexion, I braced myself for the Warp entry. It is not a particularly unpleasant experience, per se. For example, close combat with Plague Marines is nearly as bad. Most of the time.

"Yes, Sire. Entering Warpspace."

The omnipresent humming of the Machine Spirit around us changed, even stranger lights than before flickered over esoteric runes and some kind of steam, or perhaps mist, poured out of various unshaped 'things' for all I knew, littered around the dome of command, accompanied by deep hissing and a shift in the atmosphere.

All around us, our vessel seemed to become… less vessel, and every person seemed farther away, fuzzy and pale. Sounds slightly distorted and even the air feeling… murky. Colours less vibrant, bodies less substantial and lines less… liney.

In short, like every other Warp entry I had ever experienced. The Gellar Field be praised, at least it keep the worst of it at bay, and perhaps even more important, kept certain natives which I wouldn't even think about during a Warp travel outside, too.

The small girl next to me seemed to be the only real person left in the room, her dark hair the same violet hue as always, the same with her pristine white body armour, clear and shiny like polished ivory.

The hectic activity that suddenly sprang up, the wailing of klaxons and beeping of whatever else ripped me away from the small marvel in front of my eyes. Something which I regretted dearly when I took in the situation. I had heard 'people' describe combat situations as a form of 'controlled chaos' or some other, even more purple, phrases. Looking around the bridge, at the panicking faces and running crewmen, I quickly scratched the 'controlled' part, and sincerely hoped that no capital 'C' was about to join the expression. I briefly considered praying to Him on His Golden Throne, to protect His Daughter, and the people nearest to her, from any harm, but I concluded that staying quite and hidden was probably the better course of action. To top it off, I even saw the apparent chief Tech Priest wringing not only his hands, but also his Mechadendrites. Mind me, if they do that, that's always a bad sign.

Tensing, I looked around, and hoped that someone would make sense of this mess. And get me out of this in one piece.

Barely suppressing a wince, I stood ramrod straight and looked down to my left, at the Symbol of Imperial Might that had just grabbed my hand in a cleverly disguised Power Fist and was holding the other dreadful weapon of the pair close to her chest.

"Cain? Happening now? Problem ship? Self-acting warp embankment engine burdened? Ionized Gas dynamo disturbed? Spherical Wave Equalizer disjunctioned?"

I gaped at the girl, hastily catching myself as she cringed and averted her eyes. In her Father's name, what language had she just spoken? And why did she ask me what was wrong with a star ship? Shouldn't she ask someone more qualified? Maybe one of the sanitary servitors loitering around? And…my hand!

My mental rambling was interrupted by the loud groaning and visibly buckling of a ceiling sheet, silencing the heated babble and confused shouts echoing through the room for a second. Grabbing my Las Pistol again I suddenly appreciated the dense cordon of half a dozen trained killer machines between me and everything else. Phenomena during a warp travel, any sort of occurrences and especially groaning and buckling metal was not a good sign. Unless, of course, you owned significantly more than the standard four human limbs and were looking to perhaps add some more to it or to just broaden your appreciation for said extra limbs with the rest of humanity.

But the metal calmed down, resting again and not twisting in some Daemonic shape or being ripped apart by unearthly claws. Thanking the One Whose Daughter I had just embarrassed and still not answered, I put on one of my better calming and reassuring faces, and focused my attention on her.

"Ahh, there is no need to be worried. I am sure that nothing bad will happen, and no Daemonic nightmare will come tearing through the thin veil of reality and rip through steel and machine alike to devour our very flesh and souls, or the malevolent energies around us just blas…well, I am sure everything will be fine."

I made a mental note to myself there and then to watch my inspirational speeches when I was 'worried'. Well, it was unlikely that anyone had overheard us, with Amberley watching the bridge crew intently, the crew itself yelling at each other or just plain looking scared, and well. I am not sure which words would have impressed the red robed riders, but I hadn't found them. Yet.

Breathing a quiet and very subtle, I have you know, sign of relief as the Power Fist finally released the clump of mangled flesh and bone that had been formerly known as my hand I was amazed how anyone, especially even a ten thousand year old Anima of the Imperium, could lower her head, tip her feet on the ground and squirm on the spot in all this cacophony.

"Me sorry, very sorry, Cain, me scared and grabbed just, sorry, me more careful; please, not worry… me healing better?"

Putting on the most stupid-brave face I could manage, which is a lot more to one of the two attributes than the other, depending on the person you ask, I hastily assured the Senshi that there was no problem, and I was alright, certainly nothing that was worth her attention in any form. While I subtly worked my hand behind my back, relieved that nothing seemed to be broken, thankful for some of my augmented fingers.

The Holy Anima on the other hand…was staring right past me, with an expression on her face that I had last seen on the face of Jurgen when some new recruits had tried to explain the concept of 'soap' to him. Turning my head, making sure no Bio-Titan, or something similar, was sneaking up on us, I just saw the various crew members and officers manning their stations and doing, whatever navy personnel does whenever their ship was in the mortal danger to be devoured by creatures from outside our reality. Standard Operation Procedure seemed to involve a lot of unfocussed yelling and cursing.

"What doing is he? Who letting intellectual special person to the Engine Control Terminal?"

In another situation I might have had difficulty maintaining my dignity, but impending doom and death tended to help me focus. Funny that.

"Err, well, Hotaru, the Tech Priest seems to try to pacify the Machine Spirit, or divine what has upset it."

Feeling the Anima's gaze on me, I turned back from the robbed figure bowed in supplication in front of some of the more obscure arcane runes, and weaving around a smoking container of incense, muttering prayers to the Omnissiad.

The look I received was a bit disconcerting. Stark disbelief mixed with confusion. It seemed that the Anima was not particularly fond of the Tech Priests or very adept herself to the Secrets of the Machine.

"Captain. What in the Emperor's name is going on?"

Amberley's clear voice managed to cut through the confusion around us like a Chainsword through even the oldest rations bar. Don't let the boisterous talks of gossiping veterans fool you, ration bars are no improvement above Carapace Armour. It's also too much of an hazel to add a flak vest out of them anyways, no matter the increased protection. Not that I ever tried. Not once.

Huffing and grunting, as if he was under the same strain as his ship, the captain turned around from where he was… encouraging the Tech Priests, eyes wide and his form shaking.

"Mylady, we must have hit a particularly rough spot in the Warp, our blessed Gellar Field is strained beyond its sanctified limits. May the Emperor be with us. It is over nine thousand."

While I knew that the Most Holy Emperor Himself was back on Holy Terra, watching over us all, well… we had one of his Daughters here with us; that had to count for something, right?

Eyeing the chanting Tech Priests, Amberley addressed the most senior Engiseer, a wizened, old creature barely taller than the Anima at my side, but carrying enough augmentations and metal on and inside his body that was probably sufficent to built two Chimera's from scratch. Maybe a Leman Russ, too.

"What is the status, Engiseer? Can you purify the sanctuary granted by the Gellar Field?"

A crackling, twisted voice of a Vox recorder answered, metallic and artificial. Well, at least it sounded more human than what a certain black armoured giant had the auda…erm, laudability to call a voice.

"Unknown, Inquisitor. Data insufficient. The stress on the blessed shield that the Holy Machine Spirit grants us is magnitude's above the norm. The Space-Time sheer of the warp continuity is off the scales. There are no reports of one of His Holy Vessel's ever encountering phenomena this strong."

"There are various reports throughout the Inquisitorial Archives of ships entering unexpectedly violent patches of the Warp, stressing the Gellar Fields to various degrees. There is no clear correlation between these events. Furthermore, there is not a single verified report of the ship's interior visibly buckling or being stressed as it is now."

Mott spoke up in excitement, visibly gushing about the prospect of collecting new data; somehow, I felt he missed the point here. Feeling faint, I had to ask for confirmation.

"You mean… there is no one who has encountered something like this and survived?"

With a voice, grave even with all its artificialness, the servant of the Machine God replied.

"None that the sacred stores of data know about, Commisar."

That was bloody brilliant. Untold millions of warp travels must have been recorded by the Mechanicus. Even more, but it probably was not easy to express an appropriate number like that in mere words. And no one had ever survived an encounter like this. That sounded even worse than my usual odds. And to make it even worse, here, in the warp, it was utterly inconsequential how many bodies were between the enemy and myself. We would all just get torn apart, and die a horrible, horrible death in an alien space which's mere essence wanted to devour us. Had I mentioned lately that I am not very fond of warp travel?

"Then get us out of here! We need to leave the warp! The Anima must survive!"

And especially the usually very quick on his feet Commissar right next to her. Get me out of here!

A certain Lord of the Ship looked a bit miffed about someone not even part of his crew yelling orders at his men, completely ignoring his authority. At the moment I could care less. Should he start making trouble, I would just whisper to one of the raging red rangers around me, that a certain captain had tried to peak under a certain skirt. And then hastily remove myself from the sight of utter carnage.

"Fallacy, Commissar. Celestial Computations show only a 2 point 7 seven percent probability that our vessel and the maltreated Machine Spirit would survive a re-entry in normal space. The probability for any organic components to survive is significantly lower."

I briefly considered if I could order him under Commissarial Authority to tell me something different, but the Adeptus Mechanicus only reluctantly accepted the authority of the Commissariat even at the best of times. And I was not sure per se if it would help anyways.

Luckily, Amberley was nearly as used to certain doom and inevitable death as I was, and stayed focused.

"How long will the Gellar Field continue to grace us with its protection against the horrors of the warp?"

I could literally see the cogs on the side of his face whir and other parts clacking into place as the Tech Priest contemplated the question.

"Unknown, Inquisitor. Data insufficient. I cannot divine the outcome. But the 'Ceres Charge' is an old and honourable vessel, its Machine Spirit is mighty indeed and has endured a lot. So if the Omnissiah wills, our resolve shall prevail."

Despite his supposedly encouraging words, his eyes darted around and he twitched with every groan and tension that ran through the metal of our ship.

Unnoticed by me at first, Hotaru had grasped my hand once more, thankfully in a merely human grip this time, and leaned close against me. When I finally realized the warm, soft body pressing against me, I was actually thankful for the distraction some minor warp phenomena provided for everyone, including me. Looking up to me, eyes widened and mouth slightly agape she wore an expression on her face that I hesitated to name in connection to her. It was strange to consider that a Holy Anima of the Imperium might be scared of anything. Especially after what I had witnessed in Hades Prime.

"Cain… what is them doing? Intellectual special person are main engineer? Embalming pancakes?"

I looked in askance at the girl. Surely, I had misheard something. Not noticing our byplay, Amberley continued to find a solution for our survival, nearly shaking the Enginseer now.

"Give me a solution, man. What can we do?"

Stopping his twirling Mechadendrites and grasping hands, the Adept of the Mechanicum collected himself visibly and replied in an even, steady voice.

"My anointed brothers and I are currently pleading to the merciful Omnissiah to deliver us from our plight and to His Divine Servant, the Machine Spirit, to endure and grant us protection."

Nodding resolutely and somehow conveying the whole authority and power of the Inquisition in three words, Amberley nearly pushed him back to his cabal of peers.

"Then pray harder!"

Flinching as if he had been hit with a shock maul, the Tech Priest turned around and joined his fellow machine-human amalgams in huddling around the consoles, speaking their sermons, waving around various incenses, instruments and things, while one or the other touched the console from time to time.

Anxiously waiting for reality around us to be undone and unfathomable soul devouring horrors pouring in, I did all that I could in this situation, namely, hoping that their Machine God would listen to them. I noticed that Hotaru seemed unusual pale, and her grip on my hand had become stronger. That was strange, should a Daughter of the Holy Emperor of Mankind be as adverse to warp travel as an ordinary human like myself? The very thought was heretical and I was glad that Amberley was still distracted by the proceedings around the bridge.

After a few minutes, I relaxed a minuscule amount, noticing that we were still alive. No one was torn apart, eaten or dissolved by toxic sludge into glowing goo. I looked around the huge chamber, crewman still running mostly aimlessly around, officers yelling, the captain standing white faced next to us and the whole room, the whole ship shuddering and groaning under the stresses it had to endure. The sigils of the psychic wards protecting us flaring so bright it hurt to look at them, the console the Tech Priests fluttered around still wailing in its pain. The small girl at my side had become rigid and small tremors did run through her body, unnoticed by anyone who didn't commit a sacrilege and did hold her hand. Or actually touched even more of her, body to body. I desperately tried not to think about the various methods of way too many Imperial institutions to deal with heretics and sinners of the worst kind.

Finally, the senior Enginseer looked up and addressed Amberley once more, before I could go back to my mindless panic.

"It seems that the Omnissiah has blessed us greatly today, and for now, the Machine Spirit endures. I can not predict for how long we can maintain the Gellar Field, but it should hold for the next hours, maybe days."

Amberley nodded tersely, the relief flowing from her as well hidden as her, erm, uneasiness, before.

"When can we leave Warp space then?"

The machine man gave her a look which for a normal human would have let to a summary execution.

"You seem to have… difficulties, computing the data, Inquisitor. Aside from the fact that an unplanned re-entry into normal space would leave us stranded, without immediate knowledge of our position, the main difficulty is the continuing stress on our blessed protections. Updated calculations indicate that there is only a zero point three probability that this vessel would survive the re-entry without widespread, catastrophic hull integrity failures."

That didn't sound too good to my ears, but judging by the way the captain paled and Hotaru flinched, it was probably even worse. Our fair Inquisitoria gave said captain a glance.

"Captain? What does that mean, in simple terms."

With the first attempts of huffing and grunting I briefly pondered if we would need to get Mott's service to translate the meaning to us, before the captain caught himself and spoke up in passable Low Gothic.

"It means… it means, well, Inquisitor…if we leave the Warp, the 'Ceres Charge' will break apart in dozens of fragments, and we will all die in the cold void of space. Probably we will be dead even long before that, because the 'Ceres Charge' can endure a lot more stress than any of us. We can not leave the Warp as long as this …this abominable phenomenon continues."

I froze. How I hated it to be right. Not getting out of the Warp? Stranded in this strange dimension of…well, you should have gotten my opinion about it by now. Barely could I refrain from wailing that my latest attempts at getting transferred to some staff position or Schola Progenium were making quite positive progress. It just seemed so unfair to be forever stranded in the warp and drifting to certain death and madness now.

"Enginseer, is there any way to predict when this foul onslaught may stop?"

Gravely, the Tech Priest shook his head, denying Amberley's query. It was barely visible, but I could clearly see how distraught she was and how her mind was racing, trying to come up with a solution for our plight, bringing her vast inquisitorial knowledge and experience to bear. But I could also see clearly how she continued to come up short and the pressure inside her built up.

I hated this part of the job, but an especially loud yell from one the crew man that nearly started a scuffle left me little choice.

"Ahh, Inquisitor Vail, we shouldn't worry too much about some lesser disturbances. It's just like Nonsensium IX, back in the days. That little bhurhub out there will whittle down soon, and we can continue our journey on board of one of His mighty vessels and continue to clean out the enemies of humanity with the strength of our courage and His Arms."

I gave her a lazy smirk and hooked one of my thumbs under the red sash of my uniform. Hoping that no one was noticing the pale sweat that was drying on my forehead I drew up to my full height and stroke a pose that would not be out of place on a recruitment poster, to delude the hopeful into thinking it was a good idea to jump into the meat grinders of the High Lords of Terra.

Thankfully, I managed to refrain from putting my arms around the shoulder of a small girl pressed against me. That way lay Doom.

Amberley was truly an experienced Inquisitor. Not even for one second did she stare at me incredulously, instead she collected herself quickly and put her hands into the sleeves of her robe and nodded regally.

"Indeed, Commissar. Often the road of service in His Name is paved with difficulties, but faith and strength of arms will prevail. Both things we all have in abundance."

Casting a warning glance in the round, I felt she overdid it a little. No one, and I mean not one person, was stupid enough to even indicate that his or her faith may be lacking while an Inquisitor was present.

What made matters worse, were the glances or outright stares I received, from suddenly stilled crewmen around us, so full of trust and hope that I felt nearly sick. But worst of all…

Was Hotaru, staring up to me, hands clasped together in front of her chest and nearly snuggling up to me. If I heard so much as any yearning sound, I was going to bolt from the bridge, image and moral be damned.

Thankfully, Amberley was not finished with taking charge and ordering people around, thus maybe giving me a chance to escape to a dark place somewhere and quiver under a blanket.

"Captain, get this bridge under control again. This is no hiver gang, but the crew of one of His mighty vessels. I expect everyone to act the part. If there are any difficulties, I am sure Commissar Cain or myself can … help the specific individuals. Everything concerning this minor annoyance is to be kept away from the crewmen or the troops on board. Your Highness… if you wish I will escort you to your quarters and make sure that everything is to your satisfaction, oh Divine One."

Ouch. I wondered if the Inquisition had ever tried to pierce Void Shields with glares alone. Judging from Amberley's expertise with them, I was pretty sure it was a success. Still, it would be nice to see them directed anywhere else but me.

"From course, Vail Inquisitor." The soft, clear voice that spoke up next to me nearly caused me to make a double take, so unexpected was the firm, authoritarian tone in it. "Chief Engineer, informing me instantly if thing of any changes with primary Gellar Field Grid. There no will be dallas."

Wondering when exactly the Anima of Saturn had stepped free from me and straightened down her clothing and hair, standing regally and quiescent I only spared a glance for the Tech Priest.

Making the most deferential gesture I had ever seen from any cogboy, the Enginseer hastily assured his obedience. I stood there dumbly for a second or two, before I shook myself out of it, and managed to catch up to the two females and the ring of guards orbited by an elderly savant. Almost leisurely, we left the rapidly calming bridge.

Of course, me being me, even outside of the bridge I could not catch a break.

At least Rakel was not present. Judging from the stances and general impressions of a couple of ominous red predators, that was probably quite fortunate. I was sufficiently sure that Rakel would not have 'stayed' in our presence for any length of time.

After the bulk head had barely clamped shut behind us, Amberley whirled around to me and hissed.

"Nonsensium IX? Ciaphas, honestly. Nonsenium?"

Only a life time of training, and a strong sense of self preservation made me avoid a sharp and succinct answer to an Inquisitor of His Divine Self. Excuse me, but I hadn't had much time to think it over right there and then.

Before I could manage a more appropriate answer, Mott spoke up from behind us, faint curiosity or even admiration in his voice, as loathe as I am to admit it.

"Truly, Cain, I would never have guessed that your career sent you as far as the Segmentum Pacificum. You do indeed carry His Will into every corner of His Divine Domain."

I turned around, and gave the elderly Savant a flat stare. There was no way in…

"Ohh, fascinated it is. Cain widely travelled, yes? Having seen much galaxy. Hotaru like to tell trade tales sometimes. When another time. More happy time. Sir Mott, you very knowledgeable, yes?..."

I could only gap as the two of them moved on, leaving me behind. And Amberley, looking at me nearly as incredulously as I felt. I managed to refrain from wishing anything upon myself concerning striking down and abysmal Daemons of the Warp, but it was a close thing. Being aware of my luck and maybe even more the surroundings, it was only prudent.

Mott was having me on. Us. There was no other way. Not even the Administratum would sink to such lows. There had to be a limit, somewhere. I refused to acknowledge the amiable chat he had with the Anima. Finally, Amberley broke out of the… quite contemplation she had spontaneously started and shook her head, following the pair and their escort. Who hadn't even flinched. I suspected the audio sensors of their helms were turned off.

Maybe it was not the right time to notice it now, but Amberley's blue robe had quite a nice cut, especially when viewed from behind and the shade of blue went pretty well with her golden hair.

Belatedly realizing that I was still standing in the middle of the corridor, the closed bulkhead behind me and myself wearing a facial expression that would probably never make it in any recruiting add, I flinched.

Determined to ignore this latest development, which was 'almost' as unsettling as the groaning of the corridor itself, I followed after the small group, using the strides of my long legs to catch up.

Not having to go far, I reached them when they entered a room marked with the runes and protective glyphs of a command level conference room. Studiously ignoring Mott, I was about to join them, when a red wall manifested in front of me.

"Please identify yourself."

The not quite polite request was accompanied by a Genescan being almost jabbed in my face.

What was it today? Some obscure holiday that centred around making a fool out of the local representative of the Commissariat? Mott's petty revenge for the last time I had called him in on a bluff?

After a brief match of staring I realized that he was seriously expecting me to comply with the 'request'.

"Emp... Empiric studies be damned, we just walked from the bridge to this conference room. And you want to genescan me?"

Judging from his reaction, or the lack thereof, I obviously had to work on delivering my sarcasm or astonishment. A Shock Maul seemed to be the obvious choice for the next occasion.

"The person identified as Commissar Cain has left our field of vision and detection for an period of time extended over nearly one minute. MPSP requires that the identity of every person in close proximity to the Holy Senshi of Saturn is known. Please identify yourself."

I nodded dumbly. Yes, exactly. And an extended period of time. Of almost a full minute. I briefly wondered how these guys organized latrine breaks, but then. I really did not want to know. They probably used these opportunities for more... extended, and invasive tests.

I quickly jabbed my thumb in the abyssal creation that seemed destined to devour me bit by bit, in an unending torment of...ah, well. My mood always goes that way when I remember this episode.

After the short, painful prick and the green light on the infernal apparatus, my tormentor stepped aside with a short comment about my confirmed identity. His voice didn't betray him, but his whole robe looked smug. I could see it.

Without the heaving of the deck, I would certainly have entered our little discussion quite grumbling, but a dynamic entry also had its obvious advantages. Well, at least it made Amberley smile, that was something in this whole desaster.


End file.
